Strider's Lament

Brought together by a thousand years
I, a priest,
And she, a priestess, trembling,
And disguised from all but me;
We loved and slept.
She was warm and happy.
 

We prepared for the ritual,
In a small, red, intimate chapel,
A candle burned on the granite altar..
As I turned to light her taper by my own,
And unseen power fell over the altar,
And darkness swept the room,
And in imp screamed:
 "It's too late!
  Can't you see that?
   Another age must pass!"
I turned toward the altar but could not...

I turned to light his by my own,
But mine went out.
I turned to light my own by his, but his went out.
And his, and his, and theirs.

This was a dream I had as a student in St. Louis in 1968. It begis as I wander with two smaller men, thieves. And then someone, perhaps a dwarf, comes and says he will take me to her. 

The dream resumes as I find her. She is hiding on a rock shelf and I climb up to be with her. We sleep together. 

And then we are together in an underground chamber, it is a chapel with a stone altar. There is a lit candle on the wall. She lights her candle from the wall and then mine. But then a dwarf appears at the opening of the chamber and screams at us. :It's too late. Another age must pass." And darkness sweeps through the room. 

A final scene. I am in a congregation for an Easter Saturday vigil. The light is being passed from taper to taper and mine is lit. I turn to light another's candle but mine goes out. When I try to relight it on someone's taper, his goes out. I try repeatedly to light my candle from others but they all go out. The dream ends. 

So here I am today, more than fifty years later, celebrating my 50th anniversary of priesthood.