Fall Morning: View from South Kelso

Fall Morning:  View from South Kelso

10:33 a.m., 9/19/01

 

Fall morning. Damp memory of winter runs

up my spine, but the light

 

the light speaks boldly and and goldly of glory

light speaks back

what was spoken

light

let there be

light

mist holds it and folds it unfolds it mist rolls it

through fir trees and hollows

hills dripping

with honey-sweet shine–mist furls and curls it

each leaf each tree purls it and swirls it oh beauty and glory

behold it

this splendid sweet gold honey-dripping shadow

of the maker

brushed this hill

this morning

light spoken at the beginning now pours morning in

through this window

and this glory is only

creation,

bright witness clinging to leaf and limb and dark

fir needles

bright witness speaks boldly and goldly oh light

 

the true light has come and darkness

has not

comprehended

 

Copyright © 2001 Elizabeth Evans

 

************

Notes:

Yes, a coffee break poem. This poem was a somewhat subdued and oblique response to 9/11.  If you knew me, I think it would go without saying, but you don’t know me. “Darkness” is not a reference to Islam, but to evil.  They are not synonyms.

 

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