The Song of Night, Bespying

Did the song of night bespy you,

broken as you were?

Within the sandalwood burned,

a fire,

thrumming of your heart, inspired

a love

no time-bound form could create.

Yes.

I heard you,

calling out

as if no one could hold you.

Did you see how I strained

against ill-wrought workings

of minds perturbed by passion,

deemed madness,

then taken away?

This is the heavy weight

of a world’s

desire:

force strong enough to create

the chains that bind us;

the love itself that frees.

Then the music of the stars

interlocks our arms

as the trees shed leaves

we cannot see.

As the World-Soul pulls you

higher, the clouds embrace

your first,

lonely and aching song.

The movement is not finished.

A light adorns your head.

Do you dissolve

or

receive?

And what difference does it make?

For you are never as you were

nor will be,

your heart the color of

grace and

soil,

damp beneath your feet.

I say,

dissolve,

and break,

into a hundred million pieces.

For the broken heart that prays,

it is the World

that perceives once more,

the song of night bespying:

One unending form.