The Numinous Cosmos

Black and white
The light drip of ink
That looks at paper like
A savior.
The ocean of it swallowed up by
Blank pages and
Oscar Wilde’s handkerchief.
Oh LORD how far I have come
How these willow-thin fingers stained
With sin from my pen
Pull away from my mouth red
Lysistrata is dead.
My bad drawings wrinkled like
These bed sheets
That carry me towards Jesus.
The curving line, the exquisite dot
The black black field of nothing that
Counterbalances words – Oh
How I long for golden light
The prayers of singular angels
Dandies, none.
The Japanese filigree of eternity
Enamel me Almighty God
Shine my soul like a lacquered bowl
Set on a table too high to reach
Perfect there, monumental. Whole.
Holding nothing but air.