tremble, you fields. tremble
you cliff-sides. for death
has been undone, and a child's
voice has been heard
above the thunder.
"be it done with me as you say."

love sits laughing
at the foot of the stairs,
laughing at moonlight
and stars in the dome of the sky.
she sings a song and
whispers a prayer,

clutching her breast with tiny hands.
beauty feels star-bursts
across ten thousand billion
years and miles,
piercing her skin,
piercing her heart.

the universe's child
has called her name and clothed
her in purple linen.

between here and
there, beyond memory
or moon's soft light,
between silence and
the word unspoken,

where are you?
whispering, passing, dancing
across these piercing moments,

whose mighty voice
once was heard above
the crowd, painting
love as strong and fragile
as these human hearts
and still as silent?

will you drink these moments
with forgiveness, slick
as stone, breaking
through the surface
of these too still waters?

we await your coming in glory.

we await the death
of stillness on
the surface, and long
for peace in these dark depths
between silence and
your word, hanging sweetly
like an apple from
a tender bough.

we await your coming.

perhaps, in sleep, you will
remember, perhaps awake
tomorrow with the word
at your tongue's tender edge
daring to be remembered –
to be spoken.
daring to bring fire
to the world.

there will be danger,
fragile one, but you will
not fear. you will set
your word like a raft
upon those waters.

whispering of moments
unredeemed, you will sail
beneath the stillness
to the sea's dark raging.
and with your still,
small voice, bring peace

to yesterdays, and tomorrows
and tomorrows, in
that moment when
the world awaits
and the pool, so still, so quiet
ripples.

"and the spirit of the lord moved
across the face of the deep."