The Magi and the shepherd boy
This night my love took me
To meet the King of Stars!
We three sat in quietude
Silhouetted by the universe,
Sipping tea, kissing the sky
And whittling bark
From the wood of our memory.
He bade us peer into the infinitude
And inhale the galaxies,
Before piercing heaven
With the out-breath of our all-seeing eye.
Love, sorrow and time
Were the first three colours
I observed, beyond the blue.
And within them a cradle, a prayer,
An amulet and all manner of celestial jewels…
Isis in love with her Lord!
We gazed spellbound, my love and I,
At this nocturnal eurythmy.
At length, the King of Stars spoke again:
“Saturn, Sun, Moon and Earth
These are Her grace names.
Slender fingers in the firmament,
The proffered hand of Sophia
That we stoop to kiss.
Jupiter, Venus and Vulcan
These are veils of future reigns.
No compass can map this mystery;
No astronomer’s mathematical needle.
She cannot be measured,
Unless it is by love alone.
She can only be danced, sculpted,
Drunk, worshipped, ecstatically exalted…
Only by such things can she be known.
She is Tantra. God’s bride.”
Dawn came, our dreams refreshed by dew.
A ribbon of mist the first virginal vapour
Of the day… or the last gunpowder residue
Of the comet’s tail, perhaps?
A shepherd boy stood with his lambs,
Singing the song of our sleep.
How could he possibly know that melody…
It had scarcely left the lips of my Beloved?