The Archangel stands silently by the threshold,
Drinking time as if it were aged wine.
In the hall – a starry cloth of silence,
And outside the window – the anxiety of the universe.
The wild grapevine of earthly existence
Has poured tartness and weight into its clusters.
Feel the soul’s unbearable thirst
To recognize the aroma of truth.
It is the flash of a moment that fades instantly
In the transformation where the spirit leads us,
Where every perishable thing unfolds its wings.
For where there is fear, even the sun will not rise,
But here, where pain grows into gratitude,
The Archangel smiles and waits.
Archangel
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