Holy Day

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Courtesy: Google Image

“Hell is empty

And all the devils are here.” – The Tempest: Act 1 Sc. 2

 

Thus spake the Bard.

 

 

I try to seek holiness

in butterfly wings

gilded by sun-dust;

in rippled pond

where a heron meditates

on one leg for a fish;

in needle billed sunbird

that sweetens its life

from a saintly lemon blossom;

in lotus words

gathered by the truth-seekers

through the ages.

Any day could be a holy day

only if these MOAB-y Dicks

would return to where they belonged.

 

 

Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif Holiness / Holy Day @ Poets United