This Work

O my Soul,

why do you belabor

this petty distinction

between darkness and light?

Find the Beloved

whose joy was yours

before day and night,

nearer than your body,

weaver of inhalation

with exhalation.

Sun, moon, and morning star

rise and set in her silence.

Have you not tasted

the whole sky in her kiss?

From brilliant threads

of emptiness

she spins all possible worlds

in the space of your heart,

where the name of her child

is a pulsing flame

so soft it cannot be spoken,

only breathed.

Consider that you also

could mother creation

simply through this work

of being still...

Madonna by Pinturicchio