Ezekiel Reborn

There are hazards there, to board imagination of another soul, to probe behind the rocks along the way and find too much, converting chill into reality— there is the romance! There too is desert, the wandering for years, knowing that the self alone will dessicate until there is another sacrifice, another mingling of the blood there at the wrist, forsworn to die as breath is dry upon the skin. It is as much a ship's departure blessed of the wind upon the back, blessed to see the stars above the prow and still detect the beating of a second heart as passionate as mine to cease its feckless thundering. There is the time to seize the glory of the second wind from out the east, the second rising of the power of God that lurked behind the cloud of innocence to interpose its frailty upon device, its patient magic on the dryness of despair, the bones of a forgotten day, connected still again by two...and by that still outrageous gambit forged of love.