"We cannot speak it but can only feel / The intersecting juncture of midnight"
Transcendental Sonnet #1407: Midnight
Midnight seems to me to be the juncture The intersecting point of death and birth The spacetime fabric subject to puncture When heaven might intrude upon the earth
Or even soaring earth to heaven climb On ardent wings two lovers in embrace Exceed their limits to attain sublime Transcendence with their passion as their grace
And in those hours which follow silently We see the face of God in you and me The absolute the ultimately real Expressed beyond the realms of dark and light
We cannot speak it but can only feel The intersecting juncture of midnight
That is my reason for staying up late- Now, I will be looking to the nightsky in a more Profound way! Thanks Steve! This is GREAT....This is so well written STeve-VERy Touching and right there in your face with TRUTh, that can be felt- HuGs,Sheee
Steven this is one of your better works and I so relate to your feelings of midnight, it seems that is always my nemisis. Well done old friend, see you at the witching hour.
Simply superb in style and meaning, Stevie. And midnight is often my favorite time. Thank you my friend. Love and peace to you. Regis
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on July 6, 2005
Whoa!! That is as good a definition of midnight as I have ever heard. Probalby better. I like the illusion/reality that in just that split second, the midnight hour, is when God comes crashing in like the Keystone Cops, saying, "See! And you though I was fooling about coming back!"
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I like this alot!!
Love Tinka
Peter