are the angels come?

across the face
of the moon,
lights tinder by
in a slow procession
passing from dark
to light
and back to dark.
that brief time,
pronounced holy,
of all bright with allure
of anointed time [when it resolves]

and on the lake below
a herald
shimmers
a reflection
in the shallows-

and I ask, when?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s