The Window

Why do you stand by the window 
Abandoned to beauty and pride 
The thorn of the night in your bosom 
The spear of the age in your side 
Lost in the rages of fragrance 
Lost in the rags of remorse 
Lost in the waves of a sickness 
That loosens the high silver nerves 

Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love 
Oh tangle of matter and ghost 
Oh darling of angels, demons and saints 
And the whole broken-hearted host 
Gentle this soul 

And come forth from the cloud of unknowing 
And kiss the cheek of the moon 
The New Jerusalem glowing 
Why tarry all night in the ruin 
And leave no word of discomfort 
And leave no observer to mourn 
But climb on your tears and be silent 
Like a rose on its ladder of thorns 

Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love... 

Then lay your rose on the fire 
The fire give up to the sun 
The sun give over to splendour 
In the arms of the high holy one 
For the holy one dreams of a letter 
Dreams of a letter's death 
Oh bless thee continuous stutter 
Of the word being made into flesh 

Oh chosen love, Oh frozen love... 

Gentle this soul 
