Turning Silk

Based on the Prose: "Calling Grace"

You are silk that turns in circles

round your form, around your soul.

The fabric moves, a secret rhythm,

a song to make me whole.

You are the symphony between,

the song that comes before,

You are divinity unseen

you’re the dream I still implore.

You are the code I can’t decipher,

a pattern of belief.

Leave the faithful writing gospels,

and doubters lost in grief.

You’re both blessing and betrayal,

the want and the recoil.

I taste you when storms befall us,

and when air turns sweet with toil.

You’re the toy a child discarded,

the leaf before it falls.

You’re the silence after thunder,

the ghost within the walls.

And I am left in prayer,

forever calling on the cold,

where Winter’s purity remembers

what Summer never told.

You are the symphony between,

the song that comes before,

You are divinity unseen

you’re the dream I still implore.