Puritano

November 25

In Uncategorized on November 28, 2011 at 1:36 pm

The children at play in winterlight.

Acolytes of a gentler god,

since the Fall what sweeter grace

has been granted us?

Dusk, and moths dance

in the darkening air.

Wise, innocent eyes seeking, teaching.

Our hopes jangle in their pockets along

with blackbird feathers and plastic trinkets.

Uncertain voices lift now in song.

A song, a psalm, and sung to whom?

The wind perhaps, or the prodigal stars

who yearn, like us, to follow love,

to bathe in its empire of dew;

for once, dear Lord, to rest,

to vanquish memory,

and join them in a sleep profound

as the stillness of the sea.

*

*

Art by R. Waiksnis

  1. Reblogged this on Calyx: a Poem a Day.

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