Meditation with “Wind from the sea”

A window frame shadowed by the house’s insides
Has curtains like flowing camisoles,
Translucent veils printed with wings
Of Holy Ghost doves or swallows in flight.
Through the curtains and between, sight sees
A lane then sea then sky
Where all light hovers,
Making the frame’s darkness pronounced
With silence.

Yet, El Shaddai, do I hear it?
Must I hear what has been written, what is known?
Are the sounds just jinns who would steal crowns?
If not, if it is GOD speaking,
Stand still and know HIM.
Even Elijah, face-wrapped in a cave’s mouth,
Needed that Sometimes-Small-Voice to salve him.
For who of us can withstand this world’s sickle and scythe
When they lash the body down to the soul?

The veil in this painting is not stone.
The veil in this life is not iron or wood.
Even if it were, and seven-sealed-and-guard-watched,
ALMIGHTY, SUZERAIN, MAKER
From whose hands I cannot be taken
From whose book I cannot be erased
From whose table I cannot be dismissed
Works before and behind the veil.

Though much still in darkness in this frame
I will drink of You, to You, by You, for You
I am dust made wine, made libation and song.

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