It’s as if the statue moved — just a hair
But moved. With my own eyes I saw it turn,
The gold glitter of the crown dance then spurn
All sense to leave its place in the sun. The air
Was charged with stained light and I knelt down there,
Half in fear — yes — but I felt my soul yearn
To touch a marble hem and thereby learn
A secret of God that would be mine alone to share.
There should be, I thought, music, but there was none.
Only the wind through the choir loft — and my breath.
All was as it had been, and I, the only one
To see it, stood alone as at my own death.
With dread I stepped forth, and yet I did so believing
That no loving god could ever be so deceiving.
Originally published in Wisconsin Review, January 1976
© copyright 2004, 2008 the Grandpa at The Word Mechanic Blog
All rights reserved
Awww Grandpa - I just noticed my blog was under your spotlight. I am excited, thank you!! Its a Miracle!!
ReplyDeleteI used to spend lots of times in an empty church as a child cleaning candelabras and tidying up (I used to love to help the nuns at my school). I talked to the statues all the time. No, they never answered back. Oh I think God is deceiving and has lots of tricks up his sleeve too...in a good way of course.
Hi, Lilly. Your site's so good, it seems idiotic to try to choose a favorite "type" of post. (Well, maybe Des's posts :0)) But I truly enjoy the Messages from your Mother. They're why I got hooked, I think.
ReplyDeleteI knew a few nuns I think thought the statues actually talked to them. (:0))
Grandpa, I really, really loved this one... so beautiful and iridescent in its imagery. Thank you for sharing another piece of yourself with us.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Amy. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I like sharing my poetry.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. Like Lilly, when I was small I used to having staring contests with the statues at church.
ReplyDeleteThey always won. But if they would have blinked I think I would have freaked out!
I agree, the Lord wouldn't deceive you with visions but I wouldn't put it past Satan.
Love your poetry.
Peace - Rene
Beautiful Grandpa...now that is truly evocative (and sometimes that word is overused). I wanted more...it finished too soon, perfect timing.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Rene. Seems a lot of us have had experiences with the statues. I have to agree, blinking would freak me out too. Interesting what we'll tolerate in a poem. Sorry to say, I don't really buy the whole Satan thing any more. (People are bad enough on their own.) Don't know if I really ever bought it, although, it gave me a lot of sleepless nights when I was younger.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Braja (although I'm going to start calling you Ms Jewel, per my earlier comment). I do have a sonnet with a coda so it doesn't end when you might expect it too. I'm thinking of posting that one eventually.
I'm not sure about the statue, but I found the poem strangely moving. I was willing to believe it an actual experience... was it?
ReplyDeleteHi, Dave. Whether it's based on fact or not, I think it's good when a poem evokes a willing suspension of disbelief. Thank you for granting it that. And thank you for being moved.
ReplyDeleteYou really write very, very well. This post is no exception.
ReplyDeleteHave a terrific weekend and a very Merry Christmas. :)
Thank you, Sandee. I really appreciate your saying that. And I hope you too have a wonderful weekend and a very merry Christmas.
ReplyDeleteIt's gorgeous and breath-taking!
ReplyDeleteOnly the wind through the choir loft — and my breath.
All was as it had been, and I, the only one
To see it, stood alone as at my own death.
Profound, moving. Thanks for sharing!
That's beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you for following. You have a very interesting blog, to say the least. I'll be back!
Thank you, LAdyFi. I truly apreciate the comment.
ReplyDeleteHi, Expat, and thank you. You are welcome here any time.