We might[i] -- suppose that this is love, we might become like broken mirrors- reflecting mere shapes and shades, until we have faces.
Drifting through our paradoxes, come wind, come weather. Prisoner: disappeared for the sake of the world. [ii] "Behold, I make all things anew."[iii] Feel me, alert to the sound of your heart.
I drowned in the desert to the thirst for the sea, disguised by the light to blind the dark in me.[iv] I drowned in the desert to thirst for the sea and at the death of the garden plant the seeds of eternity.[v] He's watching over us, She's watching over us.
Sleeper: A prison comprised of self. "Behold, I make all things anew." Feel me, alert to the sound of your breath.
Prisoner, the fire is surrounding! Love is the pasture in the House of the Lord -- a jubilee economy[vi] for none to afford, and our fabric was woven peace by peace, and all the while we sat singing "Sweet sleep surround surcease." Prisoner, you sleep safe in your cell! Revel in reticent revelations, as movements of the Spirit extinguish this distinguishing conflagration. Lines were tearing out that negative space, defined by figure eight patterns bringing us face to face.[vii]
[i] C.S. Lewis, Until We Have Faces
[ii] cf. William Cavanaugh, Torture and Eucharist; Alexander Schmemann, For the Life of the World
[iii] Revelation 21:5
[iv] Acts 9:3-9:9
[v] Darren Aronofsky, The Fountain
[vi] Leviticus 25:10, 23; 27:21. cf. John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus