Our hearts jump for joy
as Beauty rings
her golden bell.
So far from finding
our way through,
we pause to run
tender fingertips
along the crystal edges
of this moment
and let her gift
overtake us.
Without crown or sceptre,
ring or mantle,
we're ushered forward
into sacred presence,
shy and stumbling.
Who has a will to resist?
Bowing all atremble,
eyes locked in a death grip
with the ground before us,
we dare purloin a glimpse
as Earth's vault slams shut.
Likeness to reflect upon
through the cold, dreary,
rain-soaked months ahead,
we carry a tiniest spark
of her precious essence
with us through deepest dark.
O let our hearts beat true.
YOU ARE READING
Out of this Earth
PoetryMusings on the luminous sometimes whimsical world of human love: Bring your heart to the Garden for a feast of Earthly delights but come prepared for unexpected twists and dark turns along the way.
