the body of this world

The body of this world, my love,
fades quickly and is pain.
The fire, even with desire,
needs tallow to sustain.
But flesh that we imagine
as quite shallow still contains
infinity that opens in
and ever will remain.

My love, ten thousand steps away
and always joined with me,
my mother and my sister
wed with me eternally.
How chaos, thought and matter meet
and make the mystery,
the knowledge of the taste
of good and evil in the tree.

The three of us, through all those born,
redeem us back in time,
as we move free behind us
to become as we define.
As we believe, so we uncoil
within the single line,
and futures pass us through
again and we become divine.

And every act that adds to life
and death is always true,
and only in the risk of love,
that abyss that is you,
where we embrace as bone and blood
and smoke and kiss us through,
so wholeness of disease
reveals the hunger that we knew.

The closing of the light, too soon,
like lines across the face,
when all along the bliss was here
and manifest by grace.
The link still runs, the discipline,
the need to make the space,
and only lack of faith will show
the meaning of disgrace.

And nothing short of certain loss
will force us to reveal,
the meaning of our sacred song;
the sound of how I kneel.
The rage to live, the need to die,
your eyes are all I feel;
within myself I am at one,
in loving I am real.