Wash over her soles, three oceans of God indivisible,
Rinse the arches in your undertows;
Wring new spheres from seven tarsal bones
And anchor her ankles in the wavy metaphysical.
Confound the senses like Saul of Tarsus with mystical
Floods of light where the road to Damascus goes
On blinded to the town. Assuage the stones’
Deep thirst with insteps soaked in paradisiacal
Waters. Heal all breakers that shatter on shores,
Shore up the broken heels of scattered words.
Immerse opposing limbs in aqueous glories.
Dissolve the farthest striding metaphors.
Tap the tiered Cistercian lavabo:
She will walk in nectar, lavish her soul.
The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.