LOSS, AND GRACE

by Jenny Sheldon

In the reflection of your thoughtful words

I see the eye of my heart is dimmed,

Glazed over with veiling film.

I’m caught by the many fibrous roots

That cling to past soil. Weed unpulled,

Plant unshaken, I’m unable to break free.

 

Having been cradled in country beauty,

I remember such awesome moments;

Vast horizons of burning sunsets,

Intense breath-holding of early morning,

Still sleepiness of summer afternoons,

All-embracing silence of deep, deep nights.

 

But I have moved to urban surroundings

And must cut free from the many little roots

That constrain me in my past.

Learning to look at different horizons,

Closer, sharper-edged, full of fellow pilgrims,

Seeking to perceive the gift of beauty that is here:

Looking

Through the window frame

I’m enraptured. Captured by a glow,

A burning, of orange, tan, yellow, red,

Filling me with wonder at the intenseness

Of its lights, caught for perhaps one day only.

Each leaf hanging still, each in its own space.

The Amelenchior, now in autumn glory

Stuns with its beauty.

As it did in Spring

For a few

Short days

Its canopy

Of pristine

White flowers

Shone into

Our room

And so quickly

Fell, to the sound

Of the east wind.

Horizon of  towers

Dominates my sky.

Yet there, in these

Bank-built  heights 

Of  steel and glass

I  see   reflections

Of  mighty clouds

Moving in  theatre

Across  their  face,

In  stormy shades

Of powerful greys,

Twisting & rolling,

Changing dreams.

And look,  a plane

Leaves the tower’s

Earth-bound  foot,

Climbing  the now

Transfigured  wall

Of glass and steel,

Soaring up, up, up,

It launches off into

Unseen  blue skies,

Beyond my knowing

Early,

In the dawn

Of an equinoctial morning

The soft-eyed sun lights the east

Waking the world to the vibrancy of day.

That same risen sun glares into our home

Reflected from the mirrors in the west.

This double gift of God-created light

Defies our gaze with brightness,

And brings me

Hope.

Hope that wakes my heart to present beauty,

To see that here, in this roofed and towered horizon,

Even here, is revealed God-given creation.

And yet, hush, my heart, for there is more;

The call to recognise in my daily neighbour

The image of God, the likeness of beauty’s Creator.

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