Secret of the Inner Chamber
Fall together, drift apart
On crimson tide within the heart,
That flees, that stays,
That spreads its gold through golden days;
From then to here, from now to there,
The ceaseless thrumming on the air
Of angel wings, of blessed things
That pray with tongues of silver light
Through rising rain, through falling night;
And tall the trees, and low the moon
That shines into the velvet room,
Where what is told cannot be bought
And what is sold cannot be taught;
Where what is learned is never lost
And what is found is worth the cost.
- Susan Davis Glazier
Summer, 2000