The Citadels of Desire
The twin ignition points of life - as we want it to be, are on one citadel each. They work together. Because, ultimately, they are one.
Where my homage finds not one spot. But two
Where longing is born not once. But twice
Where reason yields to the illogic of want. Again
Where the chaos of routine rearranges into the sudden pattern of pleasure. Repeatedly
When the convergence of music is a river. With two banks
When the sunlight reflects off a point once. And then again
When the ground is wet with possibilities. On both sides
When the towers are rising on the slippery solidity of surrender. Every time
When the prayer fits into your mouth. Always
Where the noise of littleness gives way to the notes of grand grace. Always
When the clock feels lonely because no one is looking at it. Ever
Where logic feels left out because magic never calls. Ever
There's a heaven. Where a rib cage is not about a cage at all
There's a heaven. Where flesh rises to hug the soul
There's a heaven. Where sounds are reborn as music
There's a heaven. Where want wants to become devotion
In that heaven of freedom...
In that heaven of light...
In that heaven of redemption...
In that heaven of glory...
In that heaven of grace...
In that heaven 0f wonder...
In that heaven of touch, smell, taste, sight and sound...
LET MY MEANING BE BORN.