Holy Ground

Religious poem about the night sky.

The Spirit hovers
and inhales.
In one long breath
He blows
from the palms of his yet unscarred hands
pure star dust.
It swirls in spirals and dances,
in sweet, unmarred perfection.
They drip down from the open sky,
Sliding all the way into tree tops.
These are the true apex of creation,
never failing, never sleeping.
Like diamond tears they mourned
through the crippling fall,
and rejoiced like fireworks
when Atonement was made.
And still they smile
on the life of one girl,
reminding her,
with their steady, unchanging stares,
that nighttime is made of reflection--
and that she is standing upon sacred ground.

Reviews

[Kenneth The Poet]

Very cool.