Sonnet 5

The star of prophecy, how severe your Winter crystalline chord, how temperate the summer of your stasis,
Before the beginning, beloved, there was nothing but you, your smile, and so lips, and so kiss, and so male and female,
And so stars, and so earths, and so oceans, and skies, and days.
And so parallel narratives of love, twinned sometimes, fused sometimes, and so secret and sacred spaces,
Spaces we cannot read, we cannot see, whereof we cannot utter, but only sense, and vaguely recollect,
Like earliest memories of our lives, like a mother’s lullaby which comes back to us in the seance of dream.
Then lands of milk, and honey and water, and wine: your radiance shines upon all these places, one star across the infinity of lives we have led and will lead.
From light there is shadow, and the fallacy of my shadow, whose lips fail to whisper even a word, dumbstruck as it always was, not an illusion as much as action’s cessation corollary.
And so two books, one book and its shadow, but their leaves are intermingled, light and shadow, within the breast of man,
Walked with God across a garden of black roses,
Gliding like a spectre, the Goddess within the garden of gold,
And so down, and down, and down. We meet here, after this: we part here, before that.
I saw you as I see you, knew you as I know you:
Truly, completely, from above to below, yours is of a billion years, divine days, stern words, the clouds and clouds’ parting, and the first and last breath of our origin and evolution … and in these ways I rejoice in mythopoetic musing.


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