Mother Mary with her tilted head
suggests,
with her Posture,
the light that illuminates her shawl.
Like a leaf tilted by the weight
of water,
the sky demands Enough and speaks,
easy words.
For a time, when the world is silent,
not even
a mystic experience could perfume
the inventory of delight.
Even the light is hollow bubbles.
Oct 12, 2023
Oct 12, 2023 at 1:11 PM UTC
Mother Mary with her tilted head
suggests,
with her Posture,
the light that illuminates her shawl.
Like a leaf tilted by the weight
of water,
the sky demands Enough and speaks,
easy words.
For a time, when the world is silent,
not even
a mystic experience could perfume
the inventory of delight.
Even the light is hollow bubbles.
This poem is about the strangeness of the universe extending a helping hand.
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