I can see the Bible stories
writ in these skies
as I pass through
ancient parts.
Slant shafts of light spill
through the clouds,
angling toward some
blessed soul.
I can see distant clouds --
fringed in curls --
as if painted upon
a cathedral ceiling.
Clouds that display the depth
of an artist's skill and
eye for perspective,
but not true depth.
(They seem too distant for that;
they're too real to be real.)
And I look up again out of the window
and am blinded by light
that has pierced thick clouds,
and I wonder whether anyone is
seeing this light shaft bless me.
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wonderful; I shall chew this over for the rest of the week, I think; thanks for writing, B
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Thanks
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a beautiful capture and thoughts flowing to🙏
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Thanks
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Nice poem
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Thank you
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You are quite a poet Mr. Gourley, great poem!
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Thank you very much.
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