The book Resurrecting Life was written by author Strange, Michael, Pseud Here you can read free online of Resurrecting Life book, rate and share your impressions in comments. If you don't know what to write, just answer the question: Why is Resurrecting Life a good or bad book?
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[12] IX THOSE vast limbs containing in the chrysalis of me — this titanic aerial being so fettered yet In the slime of my defective understanding — This God with spheres nestling in His palm Asleep in me yet — And veiled in the stupor of my fear of things Concerning this one tiny world. this God with His crown of stars And breath reminiscent of heavenly gardens — And eyes closed over unearthly clarities — And eyes closed in considerate love for me — Comprehending I am unable to meet so far His ...open look. Yet it is a weight — an ever-present significance — A wing upon my one shoulder already — This feeling myself pregnant With such dim horizon stretching form — Such form — Flinging up before me like a tent pole And lowering down the clouds in festoons around it- Such form one day springing out of me — out of you And sheaved in the hauteur of an image We have worshipped through centuries. [13] Death, I am secretly in love with you — For will you not be that arm about me Embracing — sustaining — my long desiring to lean back — will there not be across your face a fused glow of resem- blance To all the beloveds lost — searched for — Along those mighty roads of the ages — will you not hold between your hands A deific forge beaten cup of luminous wine — For acclaiming the victory of great quests — between your hands — gentle as the hushed flutter of wings — Will you not bear this wine — And brought from its source a holy fount Over which the image of the sun perpetually rising — shed- ding down — And at the very end of flashing ranks of angels triumphal Whose helmets for ever turning to mirror — This diff'using — rearing Grail of pouring iridescence — Death, will you not fill me with Love again — With Love in its resonant morning mood — With Love once more for all those For whom I have lost love in anguish — shall not those blasted holes of my wounds With their stark-twisted clumps of raw nerve — [14] Be filled in — be pleated down With joyous sprays of blossom acutely fragrant — and by you — O Death, I am secretly in love with you — Your motions suggesting — undulating — receding for me — Like a ribbon of birds fading across the sky — Your motions touching — evaporating — over me — Like the poignancy of invisible flowers through evening mists — your movements are absorbing to watch — And exhaling a vastly fresh perfume — Like moon-glossed rushes and water-lilies floating — wavering scarcely — Along the dreaming stir of the tides.
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