Light on the Page

Is there a power inside us, which leads the body into light, even though it lies as if in the tomb? My body is the tomb, its eyes are night. I was led into earth, and I will be led from it. The Being of Love led me here. And though all is night around me, I know the fire of Love inside. Ghosts may glide, but I will flame in hope.

What can I send forth in the dark, to be my emissary? Faith. Faith will walk, and see with its secret eyes. It will see what manner of being is still able to fly in the deepest night. And when faith looks back to where my body lies, it will see something half-hidden in the shade. Something which will continue, even when the heart itself has stopped beating.

There is another form dwelling inside me, a sacred host, sheltering the body with its power. Its light is unconquerable, and yet it lies silently. It will hardly disturb the thoughts of those who come and go, their prayers, their devotions. It holds itself in silence, gently pressed.

Is there a power inside us, which leads the body into light?

…

Glide

And through my tears the Being of Love shines clear,

the last thing and the first to enter in,

the Being who led me down when day was near,

the one who comes again as light grows thin.

My body is the tomb, my eyes are night,

and yet I know the fire of Love inside.

And though I have to lie without my sight,

I’ll flame in hope where ghosts can merely glide.

…

Eternity

So then how great can dusty silence be,

that in the dark you hear your faith arise,

and walk to where its secret eyes can see

what angel in the deepest night still flies?

And if that faith looks back to where you lie,

he’ll see a form half-hidden in the shade,

and know that though in time your heart may die,

in all eternity its life is laid.

…

Host

I see the host indwelling my cold form

and sheltering the body with its power.

Its light is indivisible, a storm

of first intentions, or a haloed tower.

And yet it very quietly resides,

without disturbing anybody’s rest.

Through morning prayers and solemn eventides

it holds itself in silence, gently pressed.

…

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

The relationship of waking to sleeping is characterized by light. The blessing of darkness is that it carries light into the deepest part of our being. We enter the light together and know each other intimately while we are there. Outwardly we are enshrouded in the darkness of night.

The angel-being within us travels across the farthest reaches of time and space, the darkest abyss, to fill our hearts and hands with love. In time he wants his song to come from our lips. He wants to waken with you – he wants you to let him take your side.

The path I take through life is not the one I think, the one which appears in the ordinary light of day. The real path is lit by the angel-being. It has within it the distance he has travelled. It has the light we’ve shared together when darkness enshrouds us. This angel-being was there from first to last, he’ll be there when the round world’s fully passed.

Angel

The angel-being has swept the wide abyss

and scaled the flights of time to sing this day.

His heart is mine, his wings enfold my hands,

and his song, if I will, comes from my lips

Will you let him take your side in the world?

Will you let him waken the day with you?

Steps

This angel-being brings more light on the path.

How can my steps be faltering or blind,

how can I doubt my way or pull up short?

The music of his wings enfolds my heart,

the love within his eyes shines out of mine.

The ground grows bright again beneath my feet,

and when I wake this day he wakes in me.

Passed

I’m with him while the world turns halfway round,

then see the sun’s light tinge his wings again.

He’s with me when I wake and feel the ground,

he spares no pains to light the page and pen.

This angel-being was there from first to last,

he’ll be there when the round world’s fully passed.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

 © landar 2010. All rights reserved.