Follow me. |
Take my hand and we can fly.
Oblivion, never as sweet
Transcendence, never as fragile
as our holy freefall,
our esoteric shrug of surrender
into the shelter of Sanctum Sanctorum,
halfway between home and eternity.
Your question? Bring it.
I know the place where wonder is created.
Knock, and the door will open.
Ask, and you will receive, wholly.
Your bittersweet redemption
eclipsed only by the anguish
of your prolonged
Hope with me.
Let me show you, tenderly,
how shadows are illuminated
and treachery is forgotten.
Behold, again, the brilliance of a soul
as murkiness recedes,
as despair unravels.
The human condition reversing,
trembling as it yields to the embrace
of a sacred Valhalla.
by Lorraine Sautner
© Copyright 2003 by Lorraine Sautner