Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Ave Sophia

Holy Wisdom, gentle is your mercy
holding us in light unseen--
 the scent of purple woven
through this ineffable tapestry--
Ruah, wind of mortal and divine,
what imprint lies behind?

Trees dance with you,
seeming almost human; gingerly
 we place our palms to bark, listen
 for a heartbeat quickening--
the meeting of sap and blood
in mutual veins

You laugh in twilight clouds-become-roses,
the in between worlds where
the Fay play in peripheral vision,
and we hold our breath, still the spirit,
lapse into gilded reverie and 
almost remember...

It is painful. It is longing.
It is exquisite, bittersweet bliss. 
And then I open my eyes, and you are a 
dream whose bridal train
vanishes, a whisper at the end
of the aisle--

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