Inside the snowfall stood her raised figure,
he sensed it was a destined oracle,
her glance was lone on sepia picture,
her brunette mane waved outside the chapel.
Lit were the chandelier's ocra chandelles,
his heartbeat thrummed an airy rhythmic spell,
the forest snow whirled - shaped ghostly belles
and straight he stood below the ringing knell.
An Angel's bliss, his soul received in flames,
adept and kind the whisper of her voice,
'Forgiveness calms those who indulge in blames,
Devoutness is the prelude of free choice.'
Outside he stepped below the Abbey's knell:
His voice spread up, above the snow and mass,
in cold embraced the iron wrought of bells,
- as waxen light cried through chapel's glass.
His mind and words enjoined in forceful pray,
spells sacrosanct and numinous instilled,
the sanctified on divine throne, abbe,
abandoned the Convent, to years and thrills.
Escaped then he, in sovereign woods' darkness,
became her groom in tenebrous kingdom,
became the wind, a sound of Abbey's bells,
his childhood's wraith to fly in clouds and roam.
© G. V. 01-04-2012, All Rights Reserved