had there been anyplace else to go, would i not have done?

i would have lived in the hell of my own making, willingly.

but you sought me out in my childish game of seek and hide.

hands over my eyes. spirit huddled in a corner of my soul.

and you held me, lightly, until i fell into your arms. and then we embraced.

and now, you lift my untried limbs to stand. and already you are running ahead.

i pant and long to live in my cramped box of ignorance.

but you yet lead me on toward light and joy and vitality.

your yoke is light. yet still a yoke.

my own was heavier, darker, rougher, but i knew it well.

thou winds wandering whistling,

winding from head to breast to feet.

covered all in whitest winter-light.

but mantle blue between in all and buddest

forth thy fragrant flowers.

had i but once a moment given me

to share. with anyone! o! yes with thee

with thee wouldst spend it i though briefest,

glimmering twilight stealing life away.

still looking back upon the world of grief, with gladness

would i tear and tear my breast for thee.

o lamb, o darling, sweetest mine

my thought rushed to eyes so bright of thine.

alabaster softness, life to touch,

death to leave.

departing thee in deepest peace I go.

o! lover mine but for another moment for to rest!

my head upon thy neck.

for this ten thousand lives an easy trade.

for no one knows thy face as I can read.

my fatherland thy cheeks and lips and hair falling,

falling down as last i gasp for th' moment promised past.

the boatman takes my final coin and on to death i row,

with heart a'bursting limbs quaking still.

through eternal shades that light shall dim not.

o faith!

i have dared not write here. but only in my secret journal to my lover divine. for our love is for each other alone. none others exist.

while we are there, all heaven stops and the galaxies rest their weary wheeling work. the earth slows in thanksgiving from its tread upon the wheel around the fire.

soon o lover! we will quit the sacred grove to share this love with those whom you bring to me. but my hand grasps yours with a deathgrip. i trust, but like a child, i must hold on to your hand for dear life. for there is no other life but thy hand so strong and hard and warm around mine.

and with the other, i bless and caress and guide. one hand o god! one hand! with it i shall build 10,000 upon 10,000 temples to your name. see! i cast down thrones and raise up the lowly--but all for thee! all for thee! o hide my face in your neck o god. for i cannot walk anymore today. may i not hold thee for one more hour? may i not sob into thy breast yet further. i am destroyed by yoru love. my bones melt and my sinews fall away. i am become nothing but tears.

and yet i remain. this love a consuming fire that leaves teh leaves more green than before. despise me not. cover me with thy cloa o god for i have cast off my clothes. i shall not wear these hideous rags again! give me of yourself! your robe only of your wondrous smell only will i wear. thy robe only can i stand. my own skin it shall become for in comparison with you i hate myself and all i see.

see. yet i stand. the robe is firmly around me. and i open my mouth . . . .

with no fanfare, the child gently pulls his sweaty sweet palm away from his wet nurse, and puts it into the over-large hard hand of his father. smiling. radiant.

If you knew me, you would fear me.

But I no longer want or need anyone to see what is behind this gauzy curtain.

For I AM.

And you are hard to discern from the winds.

I am an army of ten thousand upon ten thousand.

I am the shaman in the midst of the host of heaven.

My hands and staff are raised. It is the LORD who does the battle.

Through me are life and death. You have only moments to decide what is best to you.

I have come not to bind up but to destroy. The old passes away.

Behold! All things are made new.

From my mouth a terrible serpent comes. My eyes are bright death.

My hands are stones. My feet the foundation of the earth.

My torso the mountains.

My chest is all oceans as one.

my throat is all winds.

my hair is all storms and all lightning.

I am the door. The flood. I am the furnace. I am the threshing floor.

I am the shower of fire upon the cities consuming all.

turn back not! lest you be made into salt.

For I am the angel of the LORD. I come to succor only the weak. The strong I knock aside.

The hungry I feed of my bosom. The full I dash against the stones.

I tear down the principalities. I raise up the villages.

My breath is destruction.

"Wait upon the lord." "Make a highway through the desert". "Every valley shall be exalted and every mountain and hill laid low." What is all this?

I mean, what is it really. I'm not sure. But I don't think it is comforting.