You hide your face,

You bought with precious crimson

Flowing from merciful side,

You costly stone of azure,

Cold and distant as the stars.

Where do you lead me?

You specks of luminance

Circling in ebony folds of night.

Where the stars are it is always night.

She rises for prayer each midnight hour

But instead beholds only your face,

You who were hidden before

Now appear unwanted.

It was the spirit who broods over,

Guards her soul

which awakened her for the prayer

That pours forth

From the inner chamber of her heart,

As if some Guest were making

Some speech of thanksgiving into the night.


Orthodox Christian, writer and poet

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