Sunday, July 4, 2010

Light Cannot Pass

Light cannot pass
between two hands
clasped in prayer

but it does wash
over them

and it runs
down the arms

and it drips
from the elbows

and it melts
like wax on the floor.

From Songs and Letters, originally published May 18, 2008.


Woman in a Window said...

Softly lit and much to think on, this stance, what might bring it on (need, celebration, calm) and what the light does in and around it. Light is a very voluminous thing. It both reveals and holds so much.

You make me slow. For this, I am grateful. (And I must come back later to read of your father and his asparagus.)


Wine and Words said...

This poem is a photograph, a place I have been, a posture I have known, the wick and wax scenting illumination. I am warmed.

all ways 11 o'clock said...

The warmth of light enclosing hands in meditation. And what this light takes to the floor, a resolve perhaps.


Janice said...

This is so beautiful William...
As I read these beautiful words, I see someone kneeling in the woods, enveloped in the sun's rays, praying, meditating, healing, in a warm pool of sunlight on the forest floor, where their cares and worries are absorbed by the healing earth...

William Michaelian said...

Such wonderful responses!

Erin, please do return, and imagine the hum of our old well, whether in need, celebration, or calm.

Thank you, Annie. As am I by what you’ve shared.

A resolve, perhaps, Robert; or simply the pain of too much knowing.

Janice, I love that you’ve taken this poem outdoors, and placed it in such a beautiful setting.

nouvelles couleurs - vienna atelier said...

... this one brings back self-confidence...

it is so , thank you

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Laura. I’m glad.

Anthony Duce said...

Light will drip all over everything if you look real close. A wonderful poem.

William Michaelian said...

Spoken like a true painter.... Thanks, Anthony.