The Crucible of Love
The Lord of swiftness comes!
seated upon the dulcet silence of the rainbow,
and every naked shower that broke,
in the belly of the tumult, eased again,
clothed in the fading clouds of the thunderbolt.
How ragged the teeth, the jagged edge of death,
that sweeps across the plain of loves devoured halo.
How quickly it is rent, in the might of the foment,
while every supplicant, illumed, is swallowed below.
For ever has it been the truth, that love abides no chain,
nor bond, nor broken vow, nor frightened heart, nor shame.
In formless might, it renders all control, conceit,
to toss in fright, chaotic light, into the flame, deceit.
'Too late', I thought, 'Too late! we wait an age,
and so it seemed all hell had ascended.
Departing calm, defriended, no balm to ease love ended.
I heard the willow whisper in soothing tones,
in the midst of the yawning chasm of that fiery breech,
and it was, as if, in moonlit speech,
it soothed the tempests rage that burnt my breast,
'Come rest' she said, in silent arms,
to know that loves bequest is tranquil in it's gift.
All slag burnt away, the inconsequential waste,
tossed upon the pyre, the holy alters light,
of loves devouring fire.
'It is only fear, burnt from out the crucible of love,
that tears the soul in twain; It is only pride,
severed in the rage, tossed into the flame,
that sweeps away the thunderbolt and rain.'
How sweet the first sup of air, when smelted wroth,
departs, stripping away all doubt and fear.
How bright the dawn from out the dark well of night,
the furies hour, leaving only the intimate truth.
Redoubled, the bond made brighter, Loves herald,
seated in wing'd chariot, to descend upon each tormented lover.
Joyous contentedness, effortlessly slips between the remnants,
the salvaged sentiments, poured in mellifluous strains
through the harp strings, the heavenly reigns, held sweetly.
The Lord of swiftness comes!
seated upon the dulcet silence of the rainbow!
Loves tranquil sun, rising upon the ashes of the shadow.
© Richard Michael Parker 2014
