by Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer
peace descends a curtain soft
of linen velvet thick
dark clearness surrounds
envelopes
filled by You as quick
soaking through and changing
closing lids
angst blown apart
night of eiderdown and silk
and deeply breathing art
paraclete breathe gifts on all
of mercy, quiet strength
and companion against terror
all my breadth and length
held within
and cushioned
by Your aromatic word
stroked by Lover's fingers
whispers
last sounds
I'll have heard
