11 Ik
White Spectral Wind
When all excess
dissolves from feverish day
And minutes
disappear in metaphor
Then alabaster bones
alone do stay
Supporting one
activity – no more--
Necessities
expendable become
I meditate entirely
on Thee
No other function takes
me from my home
Nor hunger, commerce,
nor philosophy--
Contemplation truly
undertaken
Sustains the mind,
the body, and the soul
Bliss pervades, and
ecstasies awaken
All else is rendered
dross when Thou art goal--
If naught but
thought of Thee is my desire
Then neither death nor life can quench the fire.
©Kleomichele Leeds
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