My Christic Love

My saintly love, take not a rasp to my soul. But evermore,
Undress the strata; for the voiceless, my utter consumption;
And the faceless, my silken prayers. Thus the steepness, a
Mystic symbol; and thus the avalanche, a divine grace.
 
Whereby anguish, the texture of Christ; but promise, a
Radiant halo. Wherefore a-search, my shadowed soul. And
Raindrops, my teary eyes. Thus the mirror, fraught with
Conflict; and thus the heart, fraught with life.

My radiant love, take not a rasp to my soul. But evermore,
Reveal the features; for the sightless, my utter absorption;
And the soundless, my glorious trial. Thus a glimmer, the
Face of God; and thus a kiss, my solemn wound. Whereby
Aflame, my fallen heart. And depth of light, my flaming
Star. Thus adrift, my pensive soul.