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Evensong

The embers dimmed on the Pacific;
_The sky a scarlet hue.
One might conclude the fire seraphic—
_A seascape brushed by the muse.

Some mares’ tails smudged the vista with soot
_While gulls alighted on sand.
The beach was wet—I’d not set foot
_And desecrate this strand.

The sun soon set and sizzled the sea.
_The blown sand prickled my face.
Invisible hands gently lifted me—
_I entered sacred space.

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Peter Venable has been writing poetry for 50 years. He has been published in Windhover, Third Wednesday, Time of Singing, The Merton Seasonal, American Vendantist, The Anglican Theological Review, and others. He is a member of the Winston Salem Writers. On the whimsical side, he has been published in Bluepepper, Parody, Laughing Dog, The Asses of Parnassus, and Lighten Up Online (e. g. # 48).

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3 Responses

  1. Cynthia Erlandson

    A lovely description of the cathedral-like space created by sunset sky, Peter. “The sun soon set and sizzled the sea” is a wonderfully alliterative line. And rhyming Pacific/seraphic was a stroke of genius!

    Reply
  2. Margaret Coats

    Some see music in colors. You reverse this special perception, Peter, with sunset colors and fire imagery to make a song of an evening on the beach. Throughout, it is sacred. And the speaker’s care to preserve its sacredness brings him a mystical conveyance within. Well done.

    Reply
  3. Paul A. Freeman

    The cathedral of Nature. I was reminded of Neruda’s poetry, where he takes something from nature, a lemon, even, and imbues it with sacred characteristics.

    Thanks for the read, Peter.

    Reply

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