Dome of Many-Coloured Glass — Frankincense and Myrrh

Frankincense and Myrrh My heart is tuned to sorrow, and the strings Vibrate most readily to minor chords, Searching and sad; my mind is stuffed with words Which voice the passion and the ache of things: Illusions beating with their baffled wings Against the walls of circumstance, and hoards Of torn desires, broken joys; records Of all a bruised life's maimed imaginings.

Now you are come!

You tremble like a star Poised where, behind earth's rim, the sun has set.

Your voice has sung across my heart, but numb And mute, I have no tones to answer.

Far Within I kneel before you, speechless yet, And life ablaze with beauty, I am dumb.