From the poet's workbook, a working poem in its raw state: Visions of Light

by Peter Menkin

It was hot today, 100 degrees someone said. That is hard to imagine, but it was so. Sometimes in unusual weather what is created is an unusual day, since the extreme leads to a chance to see something different or in a different way the something that is usual.

This poem about a vision of light was caught this Summer, 2010. But the vision appeared another day, too. And it was the more ordinary of a day, like others, but special because of the gift of the way this writer saw the light.

Perhaps there is a sympatico the following poem elicites, a resonance that you as reader recognize. Is this proof that God is present, whether we know it or not? Is the peace described in the working version of the poem the peace of Christ? This writer thinks, Yes.


Vision of Light toward end of Day
By Peter Menkin
August 24, 2010

The light towards end of day at Fort Cronkite
Beach, moving to the evening as dusk arrived this summer day.


Visions this week: the sky--looking down the road,
As in the distance traveling south towards San Francisco
Beautiful hills, again the light as dusk arrived…summertime


With an empty mind, not blank, but quieted, so quiet, enjoying
The latter part of day, the vision of peace. This refrain began,

Twilight by Fr. Arthur Poulin

If briefly: May the Lord bless us. May the Lord shine upon us.

May the Lord grant us peace.

Visions of peace, a good vision, like mercy it comes from time
To time as I age into my 60s. I am glad for these moments,
And in the snatches of time here and there, while waiting,
Or visiting, I find the vision again. The goodness of creation
Noted in a vision of the end of day. Quietude.

Artwork: Descending like a Dove



Sally

Brower


e-Mail sbrowerphd@aol.com


My art emerges from the intersection of the deepening of the personal spiritual life and participation in the communal life of faith. Through photography, I retrace the footsteps of Christian pilgrims and record the vestiges of their journeys, the shrines, altars, and thin places where they meet God. My art is both my spiritual practice and an invitation to others to awaken to the mystery of God, risk holy encounter, and cross the threshold of their heart's deep hopes.

As seen on Episcopal Church Visual Arts here.