|
| |
Scintillation of Eden
I couldn’t help myself, peeking through the trees
at the white, glowing moon. It seemed so close,
so far away, meant for a gothic grace - the swish
of an antique gown, nearly floating in the midst.
Two trees held the moon between them; squeezed it
exquisitely, beautifully, tenderly. I’m caught in the light
of the luminous lanterns seeking respite, surrendered
to waning twilight. A twinkle in my steadfast soul.
Must I lose; I might linger, with my iPhone to control
the soulful image - what I will make of it. My backyard,
the trees thrill me, move me into the presence of God.
A scintillation of Eden, dumbed-down for dust-to-dust.
What spectacle of glory will we one day see; our lens
in eternity? Will we soak up color choices that stretch
forth one after the other? We can only imagine;
we can’t even imagine! I turn the moon off; step inside.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
|
|