I dreamed of myself as a light following
A greater series of lights, in a particular
Pattern of circles—

A veritable sense of a spiritual
Architecture, as in the shell of a conch,
Or what is sonic in the soaring arcs

Of language-—
What Rilke’s monk exhibits
In his painting—

Brushing the luminous colors
Of the ineffable in words.
Transcendence isn’t tangible, or tacit,

But a glimmering,
As a ray of light, or the single wave
In one ripple of water after another.

Published in the November 14, 2014 issue: View Contents
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Wally Swist’s books include Huang Po and the Dimensions of Love (Southern Illinois University Press, 2012), Evanescence: Selected Poems, Taking Residence, and A Writer’s Statements on Beauty: New & Selected Essays & Reviews (Shanti Arts, 2020, 2021, 2022). His poetry and translations have appeared in Asymptote, Chicago Quarterly Review, Commonweal, the Montréal Review, Poetry London, and Rattle.

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