vicinage corinth

10299588_10154176948285055_48200732389959914_npainting by derek penix

Vicinage Corinth

You let me have what I am.

. . . Though I speak with the tongues
of men and angels . . .

As we held up the soft Irish moon
Sky-island light.

. . . Without love a clanging cymbal.

Sweet songbird, rain angel,
White wind kin, willing to be
My everything.

. . . Even with the gift of prophecy
and have not love I am nothing…

While a whisper from another shore,
An Aeolian ode hums
Across the wishing waves −

. . . Rejoiceth in truth, love is kind…

Murmuring, murmuring
Most precious treasure
Are you.

. . . For now we see through a glass darkly
But then face to face . . .

Shall I know
Even as also I am known.

—Gerard J. Cunningham


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