Afflatus

Such infusion, my love. It’s the grief of God. Whereby the soul
A wounded light. But peer and gaze, aflame the heart, for love,
A beating spark. And knotted fables afflict the soul. But mystic
Love, adrift the wound. Thus the scar, a mortal prayer.

Such infusion, my love. It’s the grief of God. Whereby Spirit, a
Torch of flame. Thus the heart, a living shrine. And darkness,
Utter silence. Thus the soul, sore afflicted. But light, a soaring
Spirit. Hence the soul, a mystic mountain.

Such infusion, my love. It’s the grief of God. Whereby the heart,
A touch of pain. But mystic bliss, an aching soul. Thus the ghost,
A flaming prayer. And penchant tears pierce the core. But avid
Faith sparks the joy. Hence the heart sorely torn.

Such infusion, my love. It’s the grief of God. Whereby the self, a
Hidden flame. Thus the mind, a cultic wave.