When she opened her door at dawn, he saw
that the light behind her was her own light
He hadn’t seen her before then, even though
he had always known her, thousands of years
are really nothing, time is a lie
He was standing, frozen in place, until she
put her mouth against his heart and breathed
It was then that the tiny invisible creatures
who had been accompanying him flew up
and made a singing circle around her
It was like a halo in an icon of Oriental Orthodoxy
a lush luminous embrace that made her own light
expand to take him in, and she took him in
If anyone was standing near, they would not have heard
any word, and when the peacocks called from their perch
in the old oak, the fortunate bystanders would slowly
emerge from their trance and for a timeless moment
not know where they were, who they were —
that is real love, to be that lost
This is how we are now, sweetly entranced or not,
we are completely innocent, we can hold our hands up
we can look at each other and not turn away
The light which flows from our hands is pure
the light which spools out from our eyes
covers the whole earth in blessings
Whatever we hear is our own song come back to us
it is filled with care and comfort, for our way
is sometimes very difficult
Every brimming tear is a wistful sort of story,
how wonderful it is to be able to cry
Whether it seems so or not, whatever we touch
is smiling within itself, is happy right now —
happy just to be touched, to be alive, alive
If you ask us, this is what we will say
