Ad altare Dei
with the organ of dawn.
Like a pagoda aflame,
with suppliant arms uplifted
I enter the wood
redolent of resin
and incense.
On my brow,
bead-like,
granite tears
flowed from heavy pregnancy,
from throttled abandon.
Chisels of embers
like a flaming fuse
split open a path
through thorn bushes
leading me on
to the ark
of Sion.
A nd there
I, an earthworm,
am garbed
with flaming tongues.
Like hatched Phoenix,
born again
from the egg,
Introibo
I shelter
under the dazzling plume,
under the glaring shower.
Like an archangel
I enter
the gold and crystal dwelling …
a tongue of fire flares into flame
over my head.
I set out
conversing
in many tongues with the blind,
the dumb
and the deaf.