Mystic Hem

What soul and madness: and I cry my vat, adrift a diamond;
And God spoke, a cloud of praise; and so pleased—a heart—
A daily tear: a controversy. What feeling, a holy scar; and
Such music, a wind afar; and near we fly—the deepest pain;

And near we love—the Blood of grain; and she touches God,
A riddle fair; and she knows God—my Huldah queen; and
Prophet’s love, the God of grace; and so concerned, a
Bleeding moon; and life to live, a flaming fork: the woes

Of love, the eyes of ash; and read the fowl—adrift the sky:
A level God: a vision bare; and friction burns, the likes of
Love: a glass of gin: the fen of prose; and dungeon deep, the
Darkest light: a fallen star: a soul to God; and hand to glove,
A heart to Light: the highest grade: the blade of life. Indeed
A love, a fervent gem: a cryptic prayer: a mystic hem.