By Ralph Earle
This is a cloud avenue
so vast we lose ourselves
as under the vault
of a cathedral
in a crowd of haloed saints.
In every painted chapel
in niche after niche
sunset cliffs rise
from azure waters,
pastel nativities
dissolve in a blaze.
Maroon and umber
organ music
fades in
études of ash.
The lovers kiss
in the shadowy transept.
They withdraw.
They wave. They are lost.
Strangers wander
the darkening nave.
| Copyright © 2020 by Ralph Earle |
Transcendent, Ralph! A poem for the ages. A god has spoken through you.
ReplyDeleteThe imagery, the color of organ music, a glorious cathedral indeed, and the reader is right there. Nicely done, Ralph!
ReplyDeletePerfect lines:
ReplyDeleteThe lovers kiss
in the shadowy transept.
They withdraw.
They wave. They are lost.
Thanks.