Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Night Scene

From Blog10

Today, a fiction poem for you.

Beneath the curdled moon
Where dark and silver play
I tripped beside a tomb
That wailed for yesterday.

A statue stared at me
No shame, no gathered guilt--
As young as old could be
By long-past labor built.

It gave a windy moan
And whispered ancient lies
While dewy marble shone
From mold-mascaraed eyes.

Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God.

--1 Corinthians 4:5

Poem ©2010 James L. Swindle


Ρωμανός ~ Romanós said...

Lovely and lilting in a nightly sort of way, and enigmatic. I like this poem very much. Thanks for posting it, brother!

Jim Swindle said...

Thank you, my brother. May any glory go to the Lord, not to me.