Notes About The Poem
Glass poetry contest for Nette Onclaud
Born of Fire
Be it a mighty strike of lightning
Or the red-hot furnace where
The beauty of glass so exciting
Comes forth from the fire there.
Drawn from the opaque sands
And transformed to clear delights,
We know the source and hands
That create these marvelous sights.
Born of a spark, then fiery blasts
To resplendent works of awe.
Glass, in the hands of the Master
Mirrors man, in the hands of God.
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