Did GodÂs Hands Get Cold? by Maureen Glaude
He must have unearthed
from his treasure box
and strung up high
in well-engineered arrangement
the milky white series
of sparkling lights
three of these in a row here
a solitaire up there
intermittent flashers
soft-frosted or
golden glowing
some to hover lower
others to hang on top
the ritual old
and magical
dating back to
the Beginning
but he'd regularly
acquire new bulbs
on these destined nights
of mid-November
alone The Father worked
readying the skies
as His excited children waited
hushed in anticipation
way down below His ladder
and though He always chose the month
before the severest cold,
His bare hands soon
grew chilled,and shaking
until His array of luminaries
suddenly
one by one, at first
then in clusters
fragile filaments
in chain reaction
began to drop away
all descending
in a brilliant
dusting
down
toward
His Earth
11/19/2001 Author's Note: thanks for the Leonids
Posted on 11/14/2004 Copyright © 2024 Maureen Glaude
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 11/14/04 at 01:42 PM Spiritually moving...fine read for a Sunday morning to be sure. Excellent analogy of Autumn, transferred from the Ageless One's hands to you and on to us...merci beaucoup mon chum! |
Posted by Karen Koser on 11/16/04 at 01:22 AM oh, lovely! Just filled with childlike wonder of the workings of nature and at the end leaving off with a hint of a soft bed of snow to follow.
How dreamy. I enjoyed reading this! |
Posted by Glenn Currier on 11/18/04 at 02:29 PM Our locals have already started stringing their Christmas lights outside in their trees and shrubs and on their houses... so that is the image I got immediately even though you did tell me what to look for with the title. Then when I got your higher meaning, I smiled with a new awareness of creation's and Creator's magnificence. Lovely piece, Maureen. Thanks. |
|