~ By
Courtesy of Others ~
Jul Fire
I want to be mad with God
intoxicated, drunk with the sweetness of His kisses.
Maddened I would dance
on that convolution of spirit,
I would dance until the world falls away
in the fluttering of raven’s wings.
The rhythm of His breath
wherein I reside
has lulled and soothed my fears.
I ache for the fire only He may kindle—
that gift hidden away between terror and bliss.
Oh to hunger and be devoured
by that upon which I would feast.
In the burning there is wonder,
in the immolation, understanding.
Taut between anguish and adoration
the searing glimpse of His gaze ensnares.
It burns and I am consumed
like wood to the waiting flame.
Led by ravens I peered into the Well
shards of me silenced by His steel-eyed stare.
I float away, fragments of memory
carried by an ineffable tide.
The Well must never be emptied
nor give more than it receives.
Its waters are hungry.
©
Galina Krasskova
Image: Camp fire, ©
MarcusObal.
Permission is granted to copy, distribute
and/or modify this document under the terms of the
GNU Free Documentation License.
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