Sunday, March 21, 2010


Sewn into the richest folds of heaven's curtain,
made to neither fall nor rise along the thread unseen
from which the planets, cosmos, great ambitions hang suspended,
a single spot of Savior-blood rests tireless in place where first it splashed
and burns into the close and dawn of ages as men know them,
to cast out fear from searching hearts
and force the darkness from the world.

My frame, unhinged, unworthy, blessed beyond the measure of conception,
opens casements of a pale, cerulean metal
not unlike the flesh which graces better men,
unveils as revelation the incomparable truth as mystery within:

my soul,
unpolished plate,
glorified statuette,
reflects the light of Christ,
is thereby cleansed.

Oh joy of every pure, unblemished act of grace!
My lips, my hands, my heart, my all for thee, my God.


1 comment:

  1. I'm not sure, but are you saying your soul is blue? Because the pinnacle is blue too. Blue seems significant. I'm glad. It's a wonderful color.

    This is one of those works that only artists who are Christian can really appreciate because of the severe lack of GOOD art in the Christian realm. So I am exceedingly grateful for this poem. It takes the two worlds of beautiful content and beautiful expression and unites them. It's a rare and precious phenomenon.

    I especially like how you describe the sun and give it unique and significant origins.