A Crushed Leaf

As

A child upon a dry leaf

You found me

Brittle from the heat

Of my separation from You.


Now,

It is clear to me

That Your pleasure

Contains the whole of my worth:

The pleasure of a crushed leaf

In the Beloved Child's palm--

[crisp crunch, angels laughing and clapping]

Your revelry

In my disintegration.


Dear One!

Sweep me up

And grind my shards

With a grand smile

On Your splendid face!

The Feast of Ruin

We craft our delicate intentions singing--

Rejoicing in the purity of our distilled Love.

Wrapping the warm glow carefully

In perfumed cloth.

We lose ourselves in the gleeful abandon

Of our empty charity.

And laying ourselves down

As we lay also the long traveled package,

We should ask for our heads

To be severed.

For when Beloved tramples our precious gift

Or tears it to ribbons

It is our gratuity.

For we know that when we give

The gift of our Love,

And find ourselves resentful

Of the violence it is shown,

We expose our charity

For the sliver of desire

Hidden in it.

Trample my Love, dear One!

And in doing so

Invite me to the Feast of Ruin!

Take me into You

Take me into You.
I promise,
I can keep quiet.

I felt like the village idiot:
Telling the whole town
I was Your lover.
When in fact,
I've scarcely even
Glimpsed
Beneath Your veil.

Please,
Overwhelmed by Your glory,
An explosion in my chest
A trumpet blast
in my throat,
I let my fevered adoration
out into the streets.

Take me into You.
I promise,
I can keep quiet.