the eyes of all hope . . .

 

~

 

latin and spanish    understanding neither  

sitting beside yenny    mass floating to the rafters    

settling on the painted icons    primary colors

and gilt    i smile at her    she is rapt   

 

some say the bower of nature

is all the church they need    were i

but i'm not    but were i    i would come 

kneel and be graced    mass floating

 

over me    settling on my shoulders

so that i may be rapt   words superfluous    

better without them    but for

the sound    icons    vestments    colored glass

 

modestly framed    enough for me    

ego enim accépi a dómino . . .

and why not    the bower will be there

before and after    and the company is good

 

 

 

 





Poetry by one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 733 times
Written on 2016-02-28 at 14:39

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shells
You sound like you take from religion what you want and that's more than enough.
2016-03-01


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
This is a tapestry. woven of experience, care, and reverence. I find that Mass is a fundamental part of my week. A capstone that allows me to literally dot the I and render complete, seven days of labor in a mostly Godless world. You've in way I could never, put all that into a unique perspective. I'll read this again and again.
2016-03-01


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is excellent. It artfully describes what one is to get from going to church, I think.
2016-03-01



The company makes all the difference. I'm a lapsed Catholic, but I still find the wash of sensation, imagery, symbol and theater of Catholicism deeply poetic. I love the blend rapture, disconnection, and mystery here, which I think is the essential poetic experience.
2016-02-29



This brings back memories of the feeling of well being and of feeling safe and protected I felt when I would enter the huge cathedrals of my country when I was a child and my mother would take me by the hand into the Catholic church where I was awed by the solemnity of the ceremony, quiet, reverend, mysterious with the beautiful occasional chanting in Latin. It was a place of safety and reverence. I can feel that in this poem. I am thinking that the title refers to a place of safety where one can find hope. It may not have to do with church, but that is what I felt upon reading it. More of the peace and safety than of any religion.
Ashe
2016-02-28