Poem For Asherah Poem by Eric Micha'el Leventhal

I am the poet who writes from the ashes
of an all-consuming encounter
at the edge of the world.

In those moments when I myself am filled up with darkness,
with no space even for my own light, let alone the light of another,
I feel as though the narrow recesses of my being
can scarcely contain your effulgence.

In those moments I begin to understand the ancient admonition
that warns seekers away from any attempt to behold God directly,
as though were I to look into the sun of your radiant heart,
the very lens of my perception would shatter,
and there would be nothing left of me.

Your love is the fire and I the wood.
And yet each day with you I remember,
a little more clearly,
that I too am this fire;
that I do not stand in opposition
but am one with that which consumes me.

And so I celebrate my annihilation
and plant seeds of knowing in the smoldering ruins
of my former mansion.

This is the story of love's encounter with love at the edge of the world,
and we are the poem that rises from the ashes.