Seven Seals

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

We tend to speak like ghosts, their words contained

In mysteries.  We include a shoulder, eyes

Of carved gem blue, a wrist with blue blood stained

Before the hand we want to kiss.  The skies

Of blue-ringed planets are included in

Our wordless prayers.  The hair that hides beneath

A hat with Easter veil, a lip-gloss grin

With upper lip as fresh as Scottish heath,

And throat that mouth must kiss are all comprised

In invocations that our hearts convoke

Among these prayers that can’t be crystallized.

They, silent, are a misty wizard’s cloak.

  Both Christ and Satan bond to block appeals.

    We know that they are closed by heaven’s seals.

©