In the tale of the beloved disciple's recline,
Not as you assume, a narrative divine.
An allegorical key, unlocking sacred verve,
A posture of intimacy from which truths emerge.

The Holy Mother cherished, love's spirit ran,
Seized by the disciple, in devotion's plan.
Beloved by Jesus, for whom He came,
In reclined communion, a spiritual flame.

Unbeknownst to disciples, veiled identity,
The spirit's revelation, a sacred epiphany.
The Holy One disclosed to the church,
To those cherished by Jesus, in divine search.

Proclaiming the Lord's unseen grace,
From reclining moments, a sacred space.
The disciple, loved by Jesus, to Peter, implores,
"He is the Lord," as declining wisdom restores.

Thus, Peter enrobes the Holy One in garments,
A symbolic act, divine elements.
Parting the waters once more, in reclined repose,
A sacred narrative where revelation flows.

The beloved's duality, love thy enemy,
This revelation reveals the true identity.

The beloved's duality, love thy enemy,
This revelation reveals the true identity.

The realm of matters, where Peter ruled with might,
A newborn tale cried in the night; she took flight.
Her wisdom surpassed a secret light, held tight,
Held in the shadows, Peter's keys, in plain sight.

For Jesus veiled the beloved's identity,
For whom He came, too reclined to complain.
Within matters at hand, sought his beloved,
A clandestine wisdom in the silence, constrained.

Peter strides in service, pride by his side,
Sophia departs as Jesus' and John's guide,
All three ascended, recognising the hymn,
A divine union, She remembers Him.