Thursday, May 29, 2008

Transparent Beauty

Glory be to God for empty things
For trumpet-sounding turban shells on tidal shale
For church-vault cello echoes, chill and dim
Bells’ bellies swelling to the rock of rings
Heartspace, hollow as wooden ships under sail
Cliffs cleft by lightning, split to a ragged rim.

All things resonant, spacious, deep or shallow holes
Whatever is hollow, receptive, transparent-pale
Spilling nothingness over every acceptant brim
He fathers forth, we echoing empty souls
Praise Him.


After Hopkins

Collection available! Knocking from Inside

2 comments:

Jane Doe said...

Absolutely delightful! Another poem where every line is a treasure.

Jade said...

the
clear, hollow
beauty of empty

things


i adore this prayer you wrote.