The poets worshiped you through verse and rhyme,
Turned their imaginations to the task
Of translating eternity to time
That image bearers might be brought to bask
In light refracted through a humble lens,
Refracted so to share a diff’rent view
Of beauty. Souls in wonder took up pens
And wrote to cultivate their love of you.
One wonders if the words will ever cease,
If all might soon be said, each rhyme fulfilled.
But throes of life persist, and words bring peace,
So movement of the quills will not be stilled.
Rise up, you poets, scribes of humble soul,
To teach and train us better to extol.
Photo by Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash