On The Feast of the Protection of the Theotokos

My head I raise, my soul I raise from dreams of silent, purple pine put down my feet on this cold world and laugh and say, “My Love is mine.” My Love is mine in autumn hours when scarlet befriends eternity My Love will be the hall of mirrors where Beauty consents at last to me My Love has been the stalwart house lit up with gifts, to which I fled when gray corruption seized and gave my childhood to the pursuing dead. Inside are prayers in small brown bags… Read more On The Feast of the Protection of the Theotokos →