by Kristina Baer
Urgent as intuition, brief as a sigh,
it leaps across the fallow shadow field
of the still-forming universe
from its birthplace in the deep
still blue of heaven’s vault:
Divine thought into light.
And there was light
Previous post: In the Old Western Town/Museum, Sundance’s Grave (Revisited)
Next post: Spring Haiku
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Dear Kristina,
First light this morning carried the eery songs of hundreds of seals resting in safety on Highhead sandbar a mile away. Light at the tip of Cape Cod glitters and illuminates like no other light. The bay on one side, the sea on the other. Vast cradling dunes stretching in between. Thank you for the words to describe this sacred place.
love, Michele
Beautiful! Short in words, indeed, but long in possibilities for the imagination.
Where do short poems come from? This one began in a sunlit bowl of water, sitting on the counter top of a summer rental. Then there was the photograph, a snapshot, really. I had just come in from a walk. Reflexively, I pulled my camera from my pocket: “In the beginning…”
A month or so later, I am reading about chiaroscuro and Vermeer’s yellow. In a flash, I see the light, his blue, the ordinary bowl holding the water holding the light: “And there was light…”
Michele, Andrew: Your thoughts and comments light up my day. Thank you.