Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet
Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet Poet
patriciajj1 - Go to Author's Site
Antique Light

Sketches of God
Sketches of God

I have a friend who was
never born yet wrote every birth,
who knits fire from darkness
and has followed me to the  
sequined Orion above
and to chasms without maps below.
All His steps were mine.

I knew Him well when His stars
lured me to the surface of night--
a long black sigh that cast those
floating myths.
Mistaken for magic or elements that
gambled and won a miracle, His steps
can be traced to quasars
and back to atoms
and to the uncharted mazes of minds,
and I’ve seen Him part oceans
each time spring arrived,
when the air was not the molten
fit of summer,
but laughter you could taste.

He flowed from an adoring sky
and patiently waited outside
my dreams--all those high priests
that bless my desires.

Then in winter when the begging
trees clawed at a locked sky
He brought back spring--
instant gold disguised as faith.
Romping through His simplicity,
I uncovered the Ages--
a universe in every cell,
but crouched in cocoons I
learned the most;
in darkness I interpreted light,
often exchanging it for skin,
and it was in some unnamed tomb
where I finally saw the sky.

I named Him Love,
He named me Always.

 Patricia Joan Jones







© patriciajj1 - all rights reserved.

Please Critique This Poem

Excellent Good Average Poor Bad

Comments

Email
(Optional)

 

Sign Guestbook Read Guestbook

Last Five

© Sketches of God
© Silver Kisses
© Archibald
© Still in My Dreams
© Heaven is a Moment

Welcome | Writing Resources | Poets | Search | Poems | Free Poet Site | Contact Us | Publish Poem | Love Poems | Advertise

Copyright © 1998 - 2006 PoetryVista.com TM and individual poets -- All rights reserved.