Beyond the Curtain

How do you get behind the curtain?
Not where the man pulls the levers,
Nor where Mom piles apples & oranges
In the basket beside the chocolate,
Nor where Dad suggests calculating toys

Further
Behind the curtain that hides a breath,
A single candle in your fist;
Your exhausted contemplation of great,
Felt angels--gold trumpets against purple--
Midnight in the church;
The heat of prayers condensing to amber light,
To wax in your grip, songs to beeswax and incense
In your throat; recess to a cold Texas Christmas
Lifted, dark and bright, on a pale river of stars and wax

Behind that curtain--
The one that falls over your eyes every night.