On Transcendence
The Given Hour
0216.2025
“Mors janua vitae.”
For the Awakening,
your unhurried lover
arrives all dressed in black,
in a coach of onyx
and obsidian to
take your hand, (and your world)
into the long Nightfall—
when shadows bow to see
a glad moon bird singing,
and Fate gifting a veil
spun of Time, for placing
upon your stilled head—
and your Quiet Beloved
Kissing you awake to
Love’s Light and Becoming,
to its Sunrise, when your
journey arrives and you
can’t see why they cry,
all because you must start ~
m.c.f.
