Before the Birth of Azure

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The bluest of the blues cannot be seen

But when it can be viewed, it is the gem

Invisible inside glass daytime’s screen.

It is the midnight blue of Bethlehem

More crystal and more sensitive than Christ

Child eyelids.  Blue of this blue beauty veils

The infant’s vision.  More a beauty iced

Than like an angel’s wing with feathered scales,

This blue is where the first day’s light could peep

From hiding in the heretofore full night

Before those words were spoken and where sleep

Had breathed forever in the lack of light.

  The unborn Christ had seen that dark could sigh

    So fragile that four words could make it die.

© Phillip Whidden