“I would have all of thee.”

Yes. You would have all of me
in fiery love;

You would possess me.
Your candescent beauty would enflame me,
ignite my yielding; my flickering

passion fanned by holy wind
and upward dancing,
met by enkindling mercy:
breath to breath with Desire eternal.

Consumed, I am not destroyed.
Embraced, I long for more,

and I know that You will ravish me;
that I—

astray from beauty’s pasture green,
lain thirsty by defiled streams;
dulled to glories yet unseen—

will rest, forever purified, in Thee.


nil desperandum

Faith flowers, nourished by hope,
even when planted in simmering
stygian organic toxin.

Sepals and stamen long to grasp the quickening brilliance
above; below,
tendril digits sample poisoned stew;

yet brilliant petals emerge
and hope dances:

swirling, twirling, spinning with
delirious giddy laughter
scorning the vampire mask of tribulation’s terror.


Blossoms watered by liquid crimson,
the ablutionary flood
shining and sparkling, ablaze
with flaming fragrant oil.

Hovering white feathered mercy
dances too,
plumage fanning sudden fire and power;

winged tongues wielding weapons of rapture;

cauterizing, comforting spirit.

And great pinons enfold the cosmos:

unrestricted, unrestrained,
infinite, intimate,
adoring, assuring,
ever-yearning, forward-knowing;

garrison for the palm-graven, the grafted:

impregnable freedom.

To eternity:
and love;

the greatest is love.


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