Friday, March 29, 2024

The Day of a Woman Filled with Knowing by the Cathedral of Prague

 

With those sandals everything was different,

even the cathedral’s dark gown was roused,

and the ribbed and leaded lights couldn’t help

but halt breathless at the beauty’s brazen sight.

 

And the air, ever generic and common until then,

jolted, cracked, and gave a shooting glow and glint,

carrying from afar a gilding calyx’s blazing scent.

Thus, all was changed, and thoughts themselves,

 

long lost, buried in the blackened limestone walls

would break into wooing melody and chanting verse.

And, in that moment, all the ages were not more

 

but a single grain of sand in the oyster of one’s soul

for whose pearl and its awe, hunting, she had come

to trade it for a breath and love—in her nether wine.

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