Embrace of Midnight Hours


Embrace of  Midnight  Hours

You wash my body with water
and tiny crystals of dissolved salt.The myrrh refused ,
is now welcome ,
and  received  with oils on skin
from rounded vials and bottles
of scented red and blue .
Rubbed on flesh  is
fragrant cedar, cypress , myrrh,
and oil of Lebanon .
Tongue,  arms , hands ,
legs and feet ,
are motionless and limp ,
stigmatized with  love .
They reside  here in limed spa
of  striated stone ,
so dimly  lit by wick of lamp
and laid out wavering  candle.
I hear monotone music
of  the chorus
of your beating hearts,
and feel labour
of experienced hand.
Wrap me in the shelter of your linen
one final time
as in the womb
once long before ,
with flute and song  .
When will  I awake
from this narcotic state
to  stir  again
from my so…

View original post 6 more words

Christ in the Garden


Midnight Garden

Christ in the Garden

Be with me.
Be with me,
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
Be with me,
and take my hand.
Here in the garden,
we will walk together
hand in hand.
Be with me
Be with me,
In the Garden of Gethsemane
I only ask
you open eyes
and do not sleep.
There’s no need to speak,
only a simple willingness
of feet,
and in your heart,
I will give you rest.

Be with me
Be with me
In a silent midnight prayer
in the stillness
of the midnight air,
as moonlight
illuminates our lines
in this silent Garden
for all time.
And we will not forsake
each others In this life ,
till just before the early morning breaks.

In the Garden
there’s a tree that blossoms,
only once at night,
Both red and white,
And its beauty blossoms down
towards the ground.
I will take you there
And we will water it

with all my flowing blood,
with all eternal love .

Be with me,
Be with me,
In the Garden of Gethsemane
and we will travel,
back to hanging gardens
Of the East,
And forth to courtyard gardens
of the West,
And to that wonderous garden
held in by walls of cedar plank,
where we will finally
Be free,
And Be at peace,
to wrap robes
round fragrant trees.
Here passion
will be buried deep
And there will be
only you and I
in purest love
The love most pure and sweet.

Be with me,
Be with me,
and we will see
from mountain slopes,
and water olive trees,
with crimson sweat

and bitter tear,

resting on a sacrificial altar stone.
Be with me,
Be with me,
In the garden
if you can,
for this night only
I am here, and
All alone this darkest night Man.

Be  with me
and contemplate, finally embrace,
the Love that flows
here freely
in the Gardens of Gethsemane
my Love.

And when the time comes,
That we must part,
Hold and remember
I will always be
Set deep in your heart,
Here in the stillness
Of the Gardens of Gethsemane,
My love.

From “Dreams for a Saturday Morning” by PWChaltas

Speak To Me

Speak to Me

Speak to me
About what ails you
And give It vent
Talk to me about what
ails you
don’t bother asking for
My Consent
talk to me about what ails
speak your pain most
In a scroll of holy breath.
There remains time yet
for the world in you to
Yet repent ..Just
A while yet left .
talk to me about
What ails you
Ease and
let the burdens fall
From heaving breast ,
As spirit spreads
Its wings
Towards you
to surround us
leaving only
what is best .