Friday, July 21, 2006

Barn Swallow Sonnet

The swallows dipped into the shallow pond
and scooped 1/2 teaspoon gulps of glossy blue
but didn't swallow. Instead, they ricocheted
back to the sky like feathered balls bounced off
a marble floor. Physics grinned, and as a prize
he pulled the droplets down each throated sluice
to tiny red translucent sacs. Yes, Light
passed through all parts of these iridescent
blue chips of wind-flint flung through summer air -
broken strips of stain glass window spun like discs
above the heads of wheat, lensing rainbows,
diamond-shaped, smooth. Even that tiny ball
of hydrogen glowed inside each swallow core
with a fierce and smoky sapphire light.

1 comment:

Ryan Hofer said...

really enjoyed the last two posts. Seems you are strong in describing occurrences with a sort of simple wonder, yet also with an underlying spiritual significance. It's important because it washes over with light. Not the hard light of illumination and word-revelation, but the soft, diffuse light that makes everything palatable to the soul. (?)