Encircling - by Tomasz Dybowski   Through veins of light in waking time From sleep to the cradle we leap molten Spread out over each other Smitten counting the life lines Of our blessed fingertips Sewn heart into heart Fed shooting stars of our sweetness Instruments of tomorrow touch the silence We arrive as illuminated tenderness of Christ Alighted our blood woven in oneness The flame that harvests roses for us Has many names The first is set in aorta of springtime Of your eyes Second name is perfumed and burst open The fruit of many labours That is the lamp and liquor fed to it Third name is like a mystic saint Naked wheel drunken on you and me Shapeless encircling