02 January 2015

Winter sun

I looked into the January sun 
and I saw there only a blinding light, 
not the face of God nor of his angels,
but a mysterious power I could not 
comprehend - ineffable and divine.

I looked down at the sunlit dappled path
where crumpled leaves, discarded victims 
of Autumn’s shedding, every vein awash 
with molten gold, lay beneath my feet 
as if they were a carpet for a queen.

The tarmac was ablaze like a mosaic 
of tiny precious stones, brilliant and new
in that miracle of transmuted light;
delicate webs glistened on rusty iron,
frail witness to everlasting beauty.

Thus was the metamorphosis made clear,
mighty strength and small loveliness now
become one along the path where I walked
beneath the burning celestial globe,
God immanent in all his creation. 

My whole being, body and soul, suffused
with love and joy, to Him I gave my thanks,
not only for the sun’s shimmering fire,
but for small things, delicate and humble,
made glorious at his gentle command.

God be praised   Amen   So may it be