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Through veins of light in waking time


Through veins of light in waking time
From sleep to the cradle we leap molten
Spread out over each other
Smitten counting the life lines
Of our blessed fingertips
Sewn heart into heart
Fed shooting stars of our sweetness
Instruments of tomorrow touch the silence
We arrive as illuminated tenderness of Christ
Alighted our blood woven in oneness
The flame that harvests roses for us
Has many names
The first is set in aorta of springtime
Of your eyes
Second name is perfumed and burst open
The fruit of many labours
That is the lamp and liquor fed to it
Third name is like a mystic saint
Naked wheel drunken on you and me
Shapeless encircling

I composed this poem a few years back.
It just came to me today while I was pondering on the meaning of this very day the Independence Day.

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Baritt Obamney


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Love won! Deliverance from Tyranny is on the way! Col. 2:13-15