Full and drained and sacred

Let mine be drained if it’s drained

enough that yours is full;

light shines a little different

through empty curves of crystal

and hollow is quietly poignant.

Not just wine is beautiful.

A certain sort of empty

in the most unlikely places

feels suddenly hushed and holy.

That slant of light glazes

everything evenly ruby –

wine; absences; crystal faces.

Let mine be light and air

let yours be filled with crimson;

there’s more than one decanter

many doors into the tavern,

and the slant at which light enters

depends on the season.

Let mine be nothing but light

let yours be brimming red

beauty can be found in white

and empty can feel sacred

a sudden flash of insight

nothing further need be said.