The Brocade Auroras in Robes

   of Prophetesses Around Us

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

The light is lingering on stream and pond

Although the sun has set.  The light does not

Desire to leave though sun has gone beyond

To dusk, light furled — and though our hopes have sought

Eternal light, it seems to dwindle, light

As last light, gloaming, yet we see not gone

To death, slim gone the light, a stooping flight

Swoops, slow, and prophesies a likesome dawn.

Each smallest swatch of water holds the beams

Upon the surface, fortune-telling deep

Resurgence after we have done with dreams

Of immortality past morning’s sleep.

  We thank your seers’ light.  We thank you full

    Of promise, thank your dwelling light, true, full.

©Phillip Whidden