Poetry by Radu Botiș

The candle writes its passing in silence.
The book breathes with the lungs of eternity.
Palms hold open the wound between heaven and earth.
The epitrachelion is a ladder woven from acts of forgiveness.
The face bears the twilight of so many unspoken prayers.
A well that never runs dry finds shelter in the eyes.
The flag cradles its roots in the wind of memory.
The people kneel in a single heartbeat.
Each turned page shifts the boundary between time and grace.
Words sprout like wheat in the furrow of silence.
Shadow teaches light to be humble.
The air smells of an unseen bell.
Silence dons the vestment of a psalm.
The soul becomes an endless votive lamp.
God hides His footsteps in the alphabet of light.
Man remains but a window open toward the infinite.
Beyond the page, the true Scripture begins.