One last chance, one last page to tell you how things stand.
More than anything else
I am thankful for all that time together, it was well spent.
Still I wish you could just stay and hold my hand
Until the world calls;
And then just tell it we will need more time lent.

If this somehow works, I want to be with you more,
Let everyone know.
'I will give you everything if only you will have me.'
Don't worry about what's on the other side of that door,
It will come in time.
Right now I must try to make you see all that we could be.

I first met you in the woods, that trip was sublime,
How blessed is nature!
You knew what you were about, it showed.
I learned that you too liked to hike, commune, and climb.
You seemed ethereal.
My appreciation of you, from there, never slowed.

It started that first night you came over here,
I was told we seemed
To go well together. I said you were taken, no hope.
Then I started to think on it. Things became less clear.
We grew close.
And the we had that talk, which made the slippery *****.

The release of our tension was an avalanche cascade:
Beautiful and terrifying.
You said you wanted to get to know me better,
Everything then made me so afraid,
But I spoke.
You know now who I am, word and letter.

I can't say that I know you though, always hesitant,
Holding back.
Afraid of pain, and no one could put you at fault.
Bu your recklessness is almost militant!
Different lifestyles,
So hard to mix, your heart behind a steel vault.

You are the Turks to my Constantinopilian walls,
The first to make it in,
To destroy all defenses, break your way to the heart.
I guess the walls must be rebuilt, the buildings and halls,
To store the secrets,
And hide the shattered parts.

One gate will always be open to you, if you need.
We did too much
For me to lock you out, I can merely run for a bit.
I don't know enough to take the lead,
Is that the problem?
Should I take what I have and run with it?

'If you love something give it away...'
I don't want to!
But if that is the way of the world
There is really nothing I can say.
This ship is adrift
My sails are open, completely unfurled...

But right now there is no gust--no breeze-- no wind--
I am stuck.
Is this a curse? Did I shoot my albatross?
I would take you out, but I have no money left to spend!
Would you if I could?
Confound it, more empirical data. This is my loss.

I am nearing the end now, almost done,
A bit left to say.
I just don't want to miss anything of import.
You understand don't you? You needn't run,
It's nearly your turn!
Then I'll see if I come up short.

I can feel it inside, deep down, the answer to what I asked.
he dull grey hour
Here and full of excitement! Oh the hazards of love...
They open up, in front and behind, so cast,
I knew it all the while.
I'm excited, in a strange way, kind of.

Perhaps now the sleepless nights can end?
It's 4 o'clock again.
I have work in 5 hours, but sleep won't come.
It never comes when needed, nor does it pretend.
Trust, can I trust you?
That's unfair, isn't it? It's just me that is a slum.

The question, in case you forgot, is rather simplistic,
Yet infinitely complex!
One of those with which you expect a cacophony
In answer. But to be realistic,
There is but one word,
or a few. No long and dreary monophony.

So, Alexandra, will you be mine?
And I yours?
The two of us alone, exclusive, loyal, and trustworthy.

Mid-spring, skinny, black, blind
eastern tent caterpillars -
Malacosoma americanum -
falling from the cherry tree
leaning, human, over our deck.
Irksome. Mash and kick
them with my feet, continue
practicing or reading.

Three weeks later, reading
late at night. Heavy-bodied
black-eyed, reflexed antennae -
many hundreds of moths
crave the lamplight, some attaining
extinction through cracks
around the window screen. Vexing.
Until next morning, I look
up the name that has eluded me
all spring and early summer.

The single-minded moth and larval colony -
one small monophony.

Epiphanies on Woman as Divine Love Incarnate
by Hildegard von Bingen

Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179), also known as the Sibyl of the Rhine and Hildegardis Bingensis, was a German christian mystic who had visions of the Love of God beginning at age three. She was a German Benedictine abbess and polymath: a poet, writer, songwriter, composer, philosopher and medical writer/practitioner.  remains one of the best-known composers of sacred monophony, as well as the most recorded in modern history. She has been considered by scholars to be the founder of scientific natural history in Germany and perhaps the first notable environmentalist as well. She wrote poems and song lyrics in Latin.

These translations are dedicated to the most loving of mothers, my praiseworthy wife Beth.  

“Every good mother is the embodiment of Love.”—Michael R. Burch

“Cry out, therefore, and compose!”—Hildegard von Bingen, Scivias, translation by Michael R. Burch

HILDEGARD VON BINGEN TRANSLATIONS

I behold you,
noble, glorious and complete Woman,
locus of innocence and purity,
the Sacred Matrix
in whom God delights.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Ave, generosa” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You appeared as a luminous white lily,
as God imagined You eons before Creation,
requiring Creation.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Ave, generosa” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Now in her
lovingkindness, the deepest tenderness,
abounds for all,
from the Least
to the most Eminent
of those abiding beyond the stars!
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Caritas abundat” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Exquisitely loving All,
she bequeaths the kiss of peace
upon both Pauper and King.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Caritas abundat” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fashioned by God’s fingertips,
made in the image of God,
Height of Creation, held
within a womb of mingled blood,—
though heiress to Adam's exiled wanderings,
still the elements rejoiced to behold You,
O praiseworthy Woman,
as the heavens illumed
and thundered with praise at Your birth!
—Hildegard von Bingen, “*** processit factura” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A once-closed portal has been reopened
in the wise Woman
now revealed to us,
for the Flower of Creation
blossoms sun-bright in the dawn.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “Hodie aperuit” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O blessed child,
the Chosen One,
whom God so inspired.
that in time your sacred womb
produced the manifestations of God,
wafting like the gentlest scents
of frankincense, lavender and rose.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “O beata infantia” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O glittering starlight,
O most brilliant, exceptional figure
of the royal marriage,
O bright-faceted gem,
arrayed like a Queen
without flaw ...

You have become an angel's consort
and a priestess of sacredness.

Flee the ancient destroyer's dungeon!
Take your rightful place in the palace of the King.
—Hildegard von Bingen, “O choruscans lux stellarum” translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Hildegard von Bingen, English translations, Latin poems, mystic, god, love, woman, womanhood, women, Divine Feminine, mother, son, Mary, Jesus