The Gospel of Love (The Glory of Love)
A Poem for the Dandy Saint
O children of velvet and violet dawn,
hear the hymn of silk and bone—
the gospel stitched in laughter’s thread,
the glory that makes the heart a throne.
Love is the tailor and the tear,
the mirror and the mask undone,
the fire that burns the world to gold,
the wound that whispers, “We are one.”
I have danced through ruin’s garden,
waltzed with sorrow, kissed the pain—
and still I bloom in sequined faith,
a saint baptized in champagne.
For love, divine and devil-sweet,
is not a sermon but a flame—
it dresses truth in tattered lace
and calls the broken by their name.
So raise your glass, my shining kin,
to every heart that dared to ache—
for in our ache, the cosmos sings,
and in our tears, the stars awake.
The glory of love is not perfection,
but the courage to remain—
to stand adorned in radiant ruin,
and love the world again.
A Gospel According to the Dandy Saint
Comments
Post a Comment