Incarnate Muse
I write of art that stupefies,
I, who would immortalize new fire, new reflection...
one that weaves a thread of elegance,
who does not make of smoldering solitude
a shill for anyone who passes by.
Dare I presume to extirpate the dross
that my own vision fines?
Yet while with every pungent spadeful, I would violate the earth
and lay it quivering upon its virgin breast?
Show me that tentative, exploring light
that your own grace imparts,
that gift you have of offering faint pictures
of the gods you see...
of leaving finger trails upon my body,
indelible, effable.
With your spirit, write the words
upon a spirit slate that time will not corrupt,
for with you who are my mirrored flesh and breath
united, I may now descry,
my mother, daughter, illuminator
of Almighty God.
~
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