Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Sunday morning worship

Sun penetrates a pane of glass

A stray ray of sun slips through
a pane of glass, spilling colors
on a blank wall. The spill reaches
white stone columns painting
decorations of green, yellow, red.

The colors dance among themselves

The ray recedes, fades; the wall
once again embraces blankness,
the colors trickling away,
absorbed on the dark floor.

A pane of glass refracts the sun




This poem is submitted for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today. To see more poems, please visit dVerse Poets.

Photograph: Stained glass sunlight on tiled floor, near to St. Clement, Cornwall, by Camilla Comeau for  Geograph UK, via Wikipedia. Used with permission under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 license.

10 comments:

Maureen said...

I like the idea of the ray being "stray", as if finding light in a church were unexpected.

Megan Willome said...

I have really enjoyed attending a church with stained glass windows again. These were put in about 100 years ago, and you can tell that they knew just where the sun would hit. On Good Friday, at the 9:00 a.m. service, light was streaming from the small rose window with Jesus' face. My daughter sucked in her breath.

Laurie Kolp said...

Glenn~ This is as beautiful as the stained glass windows. I love the way they look at night, too, when the church is all lit up.

http://lkkolp.wordpress.com/2012/01/31/dont-feed-maps-to-the-goats/

angelique said...

This is quite beautiful. My favorite kind of poem takes a small moment and makes it large. This poem has the tone of meditation. Lovely.

S. Etole said...

so picturesque ...

Brian Miller said...

nice...you paint a beautiful picture...i love stain glass...almost more for its reflection that what it depricts...casting those rainbows on those that need it...

Buddah Moskowitz said...

I loved this, especially that there was no sadness when the colors left, I like that acceptance.

dt

Jerry said...

This is great. I miss having stained glass on Sundays.

Charles Miller said...

Those colors transform the world to something other, whose echo you have recorded well here.

Wolfsrosebud said...

don't we all feel a bit like this once-in-a-while.