Beatrice puts to the two crowns a question that she reads from Dante's desire: will the souls' light persist after the Last Judgment and the Resurrection, when they are reunited with their glorified bodies? If so, will the reunited body-soul be able to endure the increased brightness? The question is tender and precise — it asks whether the body matters in eternity.
Solomon speaks — the only one of the wise to address this question. His answer is a hymn to resurrection. Yes, the light will persist and increase. When the body is rejoined to the soul at the Last Judgment, the complete person will be more perfect, more glorious, more capable of joy. The glorified body will not diminish the light but amplify it, becoming itself a vessel of radiance — the charcoal that becomes flame. The soul will have organs of joy restored: eyes to see, lips to praise. The full human being, not a disembodied spirit, is what Heaven finally holds. The vision completes what the theology of the Incarnation began: matter and body are not obstacles to holiness but, when perfected, instruments of it.
A new glow surrounds the two crowns — perhaps the souls of other blessed rising in joy at Solomon's words. The sweetness of it overcomes Dante. They rise to Mars, blazing red-gold, and in its light Dante sees a great Cross of white light — two arms meeting at the center — and along its arms, stars moving, forming the image of Christ's cross blazing in Heaven. Dante cannot speak its beauty.