Mystic Rhetoric

I hear the rhetoric of eternity. The words speak of visions viewed through stained glass and dazzling electric mirrors. They are spoken in fiery tongues some with burned lips others through mouths of babes still others stained with the offal of opinion. Yet when they harmonize with the sublime voices of the cherubim of the seraphim of the saints a flame like iced water burns up my back and the holy intrudes on my profanity. When I shared this with you, you feared. For you, the forms are powerless the tropes are tricks the topoi are simply common places your metaphors are "mere" your hope is in politics. If I cannot shake your dust from my shoes, I will leave my shoes behind. For I am walking on Holy Ground on narrower roads on Higher paths and where I go you cannot follow except you take that cross used on me, and bloody yourself with its nails.