Without her eyes opening
to the light of the world without,
her mind began to attend
to its own partial perspective
measuring the time and space
in which her mind half-awakened
found itself being immersed
in the warmth of lumens that filled
her room with reflective rays.
She half began to half forget
what was unveiled and revealed,
what was uncovered and beheld
beneath her dormancy's trance.
Now, she could only half recall
what she had heard and had seen,
the where and with whom she had been:
the one whose lamp probed the depths,
who, searching within from without
had then called forth and summoned
her sleeping subliminal soul
upward to liminal light;
his voice from beyond and without
tenderly shining within.
Half longing to remember
and not lose the sense and its feeling,
she fell once again through the veil,
her attention's attendance transposed,
transitioning across the threshold
of slumber's door still held half ajar.
As much her inner eye
as the eyes of her countenance
fell again to the space
of his sentiment's reason,
where his voice had awoken
the constant and living logic
of his timeless light
fully alive and timefully dwelling:
ho kairos tou logou
eis zoēn aiōnion hen.
The voice again dawned with love,
as her eyes again fell
to the other side of time and space;
ineffably speaking, seeing unseen:
"Humbled, I will hold you;
I hold you now, as I've always held you:
humbled in my hand;
I have— I do— I will
dearly hold you little half-thing."
"Is it bad?" she asked.
"That, my beautiful grace,
is the oldest test,
without a doubt;
though one who is not
would doubt even that.
Even so, truthfully,
the oldest question it is not.
Nearly so, but older still is,
'What was said
to the gardener and his help?'
Elsewhere and elsewhen heard,
'What was given
to the steward and the guard?'
More ancient still,
though abysmal darkness
is want to contend,
as one who is not
cannot comprehend
what was purely uttered
in the free communion of three,
'Who will go for us?'
In essence the same,
'Who will serve
and fortify by fire
the abundant delight
of love's living paradise?'"
"I don't see clearly what you mean...
I'm sorry, L— what do I call...?"
half afraid to ask,
Anabel asked halfway.
"I speak one to one,
even to the many as one,
even to the one
become many for one;
for in my one, all mine become one,"
his reply flooded.
As he spoke,
it began to dawn in her soul,
"In you I see...
There was an age, a day,
when perfect communion
was perfectly free;
where our nakedness knew
without cost of shame,
one day as a thousand ages,
the days of a thousand generations,
even as one day."
His voice continued its course,
"From before the beginning
the cost was already known,
though hidden for kings
to search and perceive;
my royal ones hidden as slaves,
not merely to fear,
but to weigh in their heart
the horizon between the waters,
the separation of light and dark.
The outer would perish
but the inner bears fruit:
one light all in all,
light's fruit fulfilling delight,
abiding, abundantly multiplied
in countless generations;
all generations perceived
even in one generation,
by one light conceived.
Even in one as in six,
with evening and morning,
the days aging onward,
in crescendo ages blossomed:
what I imagined sprung forth,
even carrying my likeness
as one facing love,
my purity imaged;
my ten speeches bloomed
for ours with us to rest together,
our rest set apart;
six days gave birth to the seventh,
its completeness perfectly whole;
yet one perfect life prepared for three;
the seventh at rest,
begot three days more:
on the third day we rise together,
the many of many as one in the one.
Seven days were completed;
the eighth in deep longing revealed
the one descendent having ascended;
the ninth in liminal tension tarries still,
the ascendant's transcendent fire falling,
descending as promised;
on the tenth our reigning as one fulfilled:
the living one's transcendent voice
on that day raising from slumber
the seventh's children born for ascension,
his seven fires consuming
what is not fit from the sixth
to be set apart and abide with the seventh."
Together, at once their unison spoke,
"I saw, I see, I will behold
that it was, is and will be
very, very good."
Comments
Post a Comment