If this were a riddle, what would the answer be?
Smaller minds intoxicate themselves
with sweet-smelling trickets and shiny totems.
Poets have leveled forests into dust,
seeking to encompass the mystery in ink.
Artists have hunted to trap the
secret of the universe in canvas, stone, clay.
Men have shed blood in dangerous deeds,
the beauty of countless women has withered into rags,
and the flesh of the young is eager for its embrace,
while the sag of age is heavy with its weight.
The happy skip to its invisible rhythms,
and the sad burn offerings in its memory.
Even the righteous are made haughty bathing in it,
while the stoniest criminal minds turn to tears at its shadow
Creation groans and splits under the strain;
Mountains rise,
Seas quake,
Deserts freeze,
Trees snarl,
Earth swirls,
Winds drown,
Rains blister,
Creatures glow,
Fires soothe
in the wake of its majesty.
A bridegroom's gift to his bride,
made to fill eyes, heart, and soul
with the beauty that
the faceless Lord of the universe
sees reflected from himself
in the shimmer of his beloved.
