The Beloved and the Bride

When the Bride's Sabbath was ended,
she took up her work
as a Bride of a King.

Sitting beside Him, she packed baskets,
filled with goodies,
each unique, but for one thing:
every basket held a small box:
a velvet-covered frame caked in gold filigree
encrusted with gems:
A rococo masterpiece.

Every basket, every time,
she would carefully open the box
and check for the pearl hidden inside.
Oh, some recipients would settle short of the mark;
and
enthralled by the be-jewelled box alone, they
would never think to open its latch.
For these,
the pearl's presence made no difference.
But others would wonder...
and these must find the answer to the mystery of their faith,
the treasure in the velvet depths.

Each time a basket was readied, she would hand it to a soul
awaited commissioning.
And she would speak a destination:
"Barnard's Loop," or
"the Trapezium Cluster..."
and with a smile, she would add the blessing:
"Find Life."
The her Husband would stretch forth His hand
and a flash of light would vanish the basket and its holder
from their presence.

Once, between baskets, she turned
to her Husband, her King,
and she laughed,
"I don't know why I put so much care into these baskets--
--if their carriers don't find You again,
these are just worthless trinkets they carry."

He smiled in return and took her hand,
playing her fingers like harp strings,
and said,
"Ah, but the ones who do find Me--
what amazing things they do with those trinkets."

So she continued in her bequeathing:
a hope here, a dream, a talent there.

Another pause,
and she observed:
"I never knew I'd love my work so much
in this place.
I never dreamed You'd make such responsibility to be
my allotment.."
"No? Did I not tell you I had other sheepfolds?
And in this place, many mansions?
Why should I not trust you with the workings of them?
You chose Whom you would serve; and
in dark adversity, you stood by your choice.
You chose well. And so here,
Love can be love openly,
in work and in rest."

She shook her head,
quoting ancient words,
"What is man that Thou art mindful of him?"
And so she regressed to a former work,
back into the womb of her former self,
pausing in the basket-filling to embrace this other work,
a pre-historic work by her fully-born standards:
she prayed for the world of the womb:

"O Ancient of Days,
O Exalted One,
may Man have such a heart as to never be disgruntled
should You choose to expand love yet again,
encompassing new creation.
May Man retain such knowledge and wisdom
that he would allow his home,
the new heaven and the new earth,
to serve as launchpad
for all things fashioned by
the One known as
Creator.

May Man never question the balance of the scales
those measuring his worth--
--as once before at such a climax
a great star fell,
lightning from a cosmic sky,
a sky that had not known gravity
had not known balanced scales
before that day.
Now,
at such a climax again,
let creation, primed and groomed,
sing Your praise
should Your Dayspring Love's light
diffuse evermore."