Her Unknown Presence

This maiden smiles as angels cannot smile
because they rarely can reveal their faces.
I should delight in sharing her embraces
as I have known her for a little while.
Yet in the street or sanctuary aisle,
a simpleton, a saint leaves little traces
of why he must rely upon God's graces
whenever he has suffered such a trial.
Now I bear witness, suffering. I wait
until my sudden entrance from the wings
into her unknown presence - that I hate.
Why shall I wonder what that moment brings?
My faith is far too strong to think of fate,
our friendship far too young for other things.

Thanks to Michael Rew for writing the poem for me.

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