First came the palette
Then came the paint
Then came the workers
Whom God called the saints
They mixed it, they gessoed
To get it just right
Then they started to paint, both day and at night
They had a big job
The sky a huge screen
They painted and painted to finish each scene
They painted, they prayed, they sang as they played
They ‘visioned and quivered, they felt every one –
The Father, the Spirit and even the Son
And so on they labored
Not quite knowing why
‘til God pulled the curtains and opened the sky
The clouds smiled their brightest
And parted the way
The sunsets were shown at the end of each day
The saints became quiet and all held their breath
For no lovelier thing had they seen since their Death
God had granted a gift they could now show
To all of their loved ones who still lived below
photo by Sunrise Sister
wow! both the words and the photo are truly gifts of God! i think you're onto something...
ReplyDeletecan't resist....
you're a poet &
didn't even know it :-)
xoxoxox
I started thinking about this poem (I don't really think it's poetry....) when I saw the sky a few nights ago. Having it in my mind - this a.m. I got up and wrote it down - boom - just like that, weird. Now I've wiggled the words today even as I checked it again, but it's done now:)
ReplyDeleteThere are a couple of ditties coming up - hold on - they are definitely NOT profound!
xoxoxoxo
I enjoyed it! Poetry is good play.
ReplyDeleteDid you take the picture too?