Invisible Interlocutor
An Ekphrastic Sonnet
Imagine a saint, talking with heaven
One who loved poverty and animals
What magical yeast was fit to leaven
The bread of this life, its bones and vitals?
His countenance is not very handsome
Nor should beauty and wisdom be confused;
What can a homely, mortal face become
When it heeds a call it cannot refuse?
Perhaps, those dark eyes saw more than the sky
That trembling hand, stigmatized, could feel more
Than that monk's habit, humble, coarse and dry
Perhaps it touched no surface, but the core
Of silence pure enough to become speech
Of vastness infinite, but within reach
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Comments (5)
This is excellent. I especially love the last three lines.
Wonderfully rendered! So many beautifully composed lines to complement a compelling portrait
Oh wow, this had so much depth to it. Loved your poem!
This one's like, "It's what's inside that counts!" A saint, not about the looks, but totally in tune with something bigger. Deep stuff in a simple, no-fuss way.
Well done on every line, but in thought the “magical yeast…bread of life” lines particularly inspired