Consecrated Desire

Like a music box with fire inside

Desire, waits, then springs open


The dancer comes loose, and

Swirling through flames

Finds her maker

And things are never the same

We are afraid of desire

For when it burned unarmed, unmanned

It brought wrath

It harmed self and all else

It was unruled then.

But what if, desire itself

Were baptized by love

And came up pure as a dove,

Or a dancer clothed in incense. Then,

Pure desire would walk the wire only

To heaven, and say, breathlessly,

“God’s desire is the only hinge

Holding history!”

Recent Posts

Midrash on the Psalms

Reading the Psalms again today (little midrashing for you today!), as I often do, as they seem like the center (and therefore centering parts of

Read More »