Are there any saints?

Possibly, they always hide –


like the unicorns.

//yoo-ni-verss//
Noun:

I. You are a wonder wrapped in a miracle. Every ebony gasp breeds holiness. Every tincture of time that you hold bursts into purple midnights. Every bright escape another release of your cosmic breath.

II. You rule with satin clouds and shining rain. Your every movement shakes time.

III. You know your greatest magic and will forever prove it to those who rest beneath your raven sky. You are power and grace entwined, you hold on your hands an eternity, and you fully know it's wretched destiny.

In my dreams,
I see a Prince,
His eyes gently glint.
Has his Holiness come?
I cry to him not all is well.
In my loneliness,
passion for life has languish.
Spirit tainted by sinful spell,
I’ve drank the cup of anguish?
Will the heart heal?
His calm silhouette-
caress me with warm zeal.
Heaven and Earth embrace as one.
In pain, I can survive.
Like the radiance of the Sun,
I feel my spirit revive.

With the wind,
the Prince disappears
like pollinated petals.
I implore him to reappear.
I’m a vulnerable child;
afraid to be back in the wild.
His voice whispers
that it is time to awake.
He will not forsake me.
One day when I’ve blossom,
I’m destine to meet him again.
With his holy army,
slanderous shadows will flee.
With the Prince of Peace,
Life’s lamenting will one day cease!

(c) Jo Swan