Words are not rain in the night to reflect a golden moon
in overlapping series of concentric light,
prismatic circles in the road.
A streetlamp shivering its skin
amidst the heartening proximity of raindrop to raindrop
and answering thunder with an echo of ringing tin
is not a golden moon.
Eyes of joy in the face of splendor,
drawing together the endless, ageless worth of beauty seen
into a blur myopic of contentment overwhelmed
are not a fleet of raindrops,
nor breaths drawn in equal in truth to thunder.
*
No, but God, they will suffice.
prismatic circles in the road.
A streetlamp shivering its skin
amidst the heartening proximity of raindrop to raindrop
and answering thunder with an echo of ringing tin
is not a golden moon.
Eyes of joy in the face of splendor,
drawing together the endless, ageless worth of beauty seen
into a blur myopic of contentment overwhelmed
are not a fleet of raindrops,
nor breaths drawn in equal in truth to thunder.
*
No, but God, they will suffice.
The worth of words expressed through words. This poem makes me appreciate words. God chose words to reveal himself to us. Often I feel like they're just not sufficient to express certain ideas, but they were God's medium of choice, so obviously there is something very special about words.
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I love the imagery throughout, but particularly the description of the first stanza.
And once again you are the master of closers that pack a punch. Even the punctuation you use and the way you organize your poems is highly effective. I love how you put quotation marks a line above and a line below your actual quotation. Your poetry is aesthetically pleasing.