Francis Meyrick

Underneath a blade
Paused, unnaturally,
from beating air
into a mostly
illusory submission,
I gaze in rapture
At a thin gaseous layer
With which our home
Fragile and small
Is blessed by Forces
slightly understood
And by a Great Cosmic Kindness
Whom we, noisy and unseeing
Barely acknowledge.

I watch as colors
Masterfully painted
Fade by, like soothing notes
Of a half forgotten hymn
A love song
Ancient as the hills
Weathered as the seas
But whispering on
longingly
In the hearts of Men.

In this brief moment
Of Quietude and Calm
Before the coming Storm
The noisy beat of mankind’s toil
The urgent shout of labor due
The clamor of the restless wheel
The cranes that arch up to the sky
As fingers clawing at a face…
I pause, and wonder silently
About our human race.

Underneath a blade
Paused, unnaturally,
from beating air
into a mostly
illusory submission,
I gaze in rapture
At a thin gaseous layer
With which our home
Fragile and small
Is blessed by Forces
slightly understood
And by a Great Cosmic Kindness
Whom we, noisy and unseeing
approach, unknowingly

When at last
Our eyes
So feeble, so dark
Strain to the skies
And gropingly, earnestly
Dimly, discern

A light beyond colors
A truth beyond words
The turning of Pages
The Song of the Ages

We are born of this Light
And beloved in His sight.

Francis Meyrick