Glory Poem by John Lars Zwerenz

GLORY

I am no longer on this earth.
I am beyond the grave.
In paradise, in a glistening enclave,
I see my love, within its gleaming berth.

In heaven I have been engulfed in wine,
For true love inebriates everyone! -
In courtyards fountains rejoice in the sun
To the melodies of breezes, scented with brine.

Death I never tasted. For upon one sacred day,
Praying on my knees, I traversed the night
And awoke immersed in a glorious light,
Absorbed into the bosom of The Lord to stay.

Castles, carriages, pines and hills,
Roses, wondrous enchanting flowers,
Are one with love's eternal bowers -
All filled with the liquors of daffodils.

My immaculate maiden is from Normandy.
Long ago she wept, chilled in the snow,
Upon a baleful archipelago,
Of regal boughs, sobbing by the sea.

Now her fair, white arms sanctify me.
Her illuminated charms are for us alone.
An ivory freshet, and its vine clad stone
Speaks of only ardor, and its symphony.

And the cathedral bells chime
In the infinite spring,
Where all the saints and angels sing,
In this Kingdom devoid of pain and time.

John Lars Zwerenz