The Glory Of The Promised Valley. Poem by Sara Iglesias

Your ankles, as they fold
like the blurred pavement
and the carving of a tree,
is a one-way alley,
to the glory of the promised valley.
Where honey and milk overflow.

A place of infinity,
Conquering an ever-running ship of enigmas,
The sailboat of your treasures,
to far lands, divinity glides.

Your hands,
 ecstatic ribbons that tie tumultuous storms
intertwine with mine
while the wind beats north.

Beloved, your fingers with devious lines 
are a codex to immortalize
Centuries to decipher a masterful rhyme
My scanty attempts could never find
An offering grand enough
to the ruthless deities of your past.