I enter you like smoke (Like angels dying)

(Old poem; just to see if I can actually manage to post stuff here...)


Storm the night and break the Gates of Heaven.
This the whisper in the trees
that turn their leaves to the rumours of spring.
Done with death
and done with grieving,
they drive their roots into the waiting soil.

Hold her, hold her tight.
This the clamour of the cranes,
returning from the sun,
the shores of Lake Manyara.
Hold her to the light of all your dreaming,
all your coming homes.

And I hold you, hold you -
as a martyr holds his death.
I paint your flesh with morning song,
with all these dreams I share with God.
I enter you like smoke,
like angels dying.

And I sing to you, now sing to you:
naked as the arms and armour
of a virgin heart,
I move through you like prayers,
rising to the Heavens,
coming home.