Love is strong as death...
The flash of it is a flash of fire,
a flame of the Lord himself.
Song of Songs 8
The jarred flames,
no bigger than our hearts,
are carried over the asylum
of loss,
down the long aisles of our grief:
thin glass wings
fluttering against the inevitable
that comes all the same;
rising out of ashes,
Blessed Mary's altar,
as great birds of fire
carrying our heavy prayers
into the blinding, boundless flare
of His brilliant heart:
the burning crucible
of love.
Mm. I love this. I love poems about prayer candles. I love the intensity of this piece that comes, I think, from the yoking of our prayer-candle-flames and God's sacred/burning/"brilliant" heart ("burning crucible/of love."). To be yoked like that, to feel yoked to God in this way is a great comfort. I love thinking about how something as light as flames can carry something as heavy as grief, and I love thinking about prayers as "heavy.". I love, too, the linking of our heart in the beginning to God's heart at the end and how prayer does this. This poem, even in its sometimes challenging subject, is a joy to read. I'm so happy to know it. Blessing to you always!
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