Blood and Song

blood and song

it was a small song

but written in blood and timelessness.

it sang beyond itself

and sent ripples over years

to those whose ears

yearned for the hearing…

and, in doing so,

you’ve dipped me in wisdom

like candle wax

and i am sealed

and secure

waiting for a wick

so i might burn forever—

calming me with words

meant only for me

yet stretching to

the very sanctuary of time,

where many like me

sit and sip and pine

for forever,

in moment by moment day

until in the brilliance of light

wave after wave

they come

like an unfinished army

asking for robes and

white clothing

we stand on a precipice

waiting for a voice to call us onward

yet the distance is ever too far

for us to cover

so we wait,

for a face we’ve never seen

to meet us

eye to eye

and thank us for a work

we never performed

and carry us

in youthful flight

into the light of early morn,

rising like a phoenix in the west!

and i, still in time,

(a little box,

a daily rhyme)

think on this and am blessed

learning of a song rippling

over mine,

and better yet

a touch of life

like my desires set aflame

with light

(rather than the robbing darkness

in which they live this night)

and in some whispered moment

a transport of utter mystery

carries me away

to shine on me a shadow

of the light of the face

i one day will see in life

and kiss the feet of You

who daily wash mine

and celebrate that Love itself

has conquered me through

blood and song