A Living Canto
Carved by a celestial hand,
Represents divine artistry shaping the poem itself.
Thou art a breathing canto, alive,
The poem is imbued with life and spirit.
A miracle enflamed, alight beyond the circling spheres.
Beauty that transcends mortal understanding.
Thy gaze unweaves the borders of my soul,
Divine gaze dissolves personal boundaries.
Yet strikes my breast with thunderous fire.
Powerful emotion, almost painful inspiration.
Tell me—doth mine eye profane,
Questioning limits of mortal perception.
Trespassing upon thy sacred firmament?
Approaching the divine realm of understanding.
Have I, poor mortal dust,
Acknowledging human frailty before divinity.
Ventured too near the furnace of thy being?
Daring to approach divine intensity.
Pardon, O Divine,
Seeking forgiveness for audacity.
For I have enthroned thee
Elevated the divine above all worldly measures.
Above goddess, shrine, and scripture’s trembling word.
Acknowledging supremacy over sacred symbols.
And I—what am I, but a shadowed mote,
Feeling small and ephemeral in the divine presence.
Clinging beneath thy footfall,
Desperate attachment to divinity.
Yearning to be scattered with the wind,
Desire for liberation and transformation.
Yearning to be seized by thy radiant flame.
Seeking immersion into divine brilliance.
O let thy glance fall once on me—
A plea for attention and grace.
That I may live, though ruin’d in the blaze.
Survival even in the overwhelming presence of divinity.