A tale underground in a spring you can’t see, a beginning of mystery that calls Galilee, in deep, call’s out deep and the waters recede, in liquid is born a soft stirring sea, a blanket of oceans, a rhapsody. Salt cries the Seer, that binds the wound, I can’t hold much longer, when there is no moon, but hush, whispers secrets that ride on a tide, the wetness is healing, it considers you a bride.
Elisheva she baptizes me, like Schechinah glory, a rite when all is brown, and autumn woos the wounded that would seek a crown. There when no direction would look but down, in pouring water, crystal sheen, so cold with leaves, there mountain spring you set no levees. A sound that cracks wide, a blue lit sky, horizon soaked, what destiny when angels cry.
Here stand I now in drops of dew, as though a tree planted beside this water, and though I view a mighty spring, what fall I see, but still this shallow shall grow deep in due season. This spirit it shall not fall here by Elisheva, and wherever this fount will flow will prosper.
A Seer now in autumn brown, a rhapsody on near this frozen ground. A liquid clear, my hart pants so near this water, this high water.
My soul does fall in awkward rhythm before your falls of mercy. Your mist does rise this lake unbinds and turning finds what eyes were blind can see. This tree unmoved has brought the truth relieved. Deep to deep this high place sea, Elisheva is an altar top, a mood of sanctity. A water found, a Seer’s rhapsody.
It waits you there in places known, where broken hearts can find a home, in places secret, niches found, sisters of water, scriptures of sound. What mourners seeking have lost their strife, found frozen destiny from drops of life, when like a Seer who found a lake, and turned his mind into his fate, and there in water a motion stilled, a question answered without a thrill. A rhapsody on Elisheva’s shores, a sound heard giving, a noise no more.
Isabelle (Elisheva) lake resides high in the Indian Peaks Wilderness near Nederland, Colorado. It is there that a Seer took liberties with Psalms 1 and 42 and in his pain found a rhapsody! – 09.29.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל