Читать книгу Ordinary Time - Michael D. Riley - Страница 20

Embody

the great dream

God dreams into skin

tight with muscle,

bone, articulated ribs,

all flesh into desire.

Place

your intention here,

beside the presentiment

of warmth I formed

watching you slap snow

from your wool hat.

Press

your cold cheek

and smile

on mine.

Christ

enter your lips

through mine, a prayer

love calls forty years

of freeze and thaw,

naming as we go

God in the going

on.

Speak

through fingertip and kiss

the word for being

here and gone.

Put your hand here,

Thomas.

I am so cold.

Transcend

the isolate, lips

full on the mouth,

warm now before the fire,

tiny lights, cedar smell,

still clumsy with yearning

after all these years.

Kneel

beside the straw

and figurines, hearth

with andirons

cold as snow,

black bent nails

driven into the fire

that never fails.

Listen

to one whisper

above the choir on the radio,

the splash of wine,

windswept sleet and snow

against the window.

Come

to bed, says the spirit,

mouth full of kisses

in the darkness.

You are home.

Come closer.

The storm rages.