Upon Their Foreheads Darkest Perfect Azure

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

The seraphim have wings of silk and blue,

Of blue with gilded dust.  Each seraph bends

Its wings around itself.  A light shines through

Them as Jehovah’s gleaming glory blends

Its way through seraph feathers.  Six wings stand

For different principles, devotion, love,

Hope, awe, and strength, serenity — all spanned

With halo warmth around and far above

Each seraph’s purled hair.  The wings are still.

They do not need to move.  The angels hold

Inside themselves all beauties that fulfill

Their purpose and their hearts of swirled gold.

  Their calm is utter, singing utter psalm

    And psalm shaped out, each one, a golden palm.

© Phillip Whidden