Illuminus

“Faith calls, to question who I am, when neither myth, nor man. Say not what you were, but what you are. A scarcity of miracles we’ve found.” — King Crimson

“See the Light” by Giulio Bernardi
 
There is a quiet golden
in this evening as it settles
unequaled in its beauty
by even that of precious metals

it embraces vesper’s hour
with a subtle gentle heat
beams through the gilded window
falls ever gently at my feet

it ignites beatific magic
as if prayers are being heard
paints the world in amber splendor
one feels miracles being stirred

blessed by the radiance of the sun
this holy moment catches fire
my frail heart’s a kindled tinder
aflame in sacred love’s desire

wrapped in an inner mounting flame
I’m filled with passion’s yearning
my captive soul now full ablaze
for the truth my heart is burning

before I am but all consumed
please let it not be the abyss
for if I am to be consumed
I pray it be by hallowed bliss

*
rob kistner © 2022

Poetry at: The Sunday Muse

 

~ Now, performed by the man that wrote the masterpiece… ~

22 thoughts on “Illuminus”

  1. Rob, I enjoyed this. Yes, the dark with the outside light beam coming in does suggest a somber setting. Good job!
    p.s. I also used the word “prayer” but in a different vein.
    ..

    1. Thank you Lisa. This one was given to me from that place where inspiration flows freely. It came quickly. It continues to resonate for me. I am so glad it does for you as well my friend! ???????

  2. A beautiful reflective poem to read on this Sunday. You have captured the emptiness and the light shining inward. The words flowed naturally as if spirit driven. I feel there is more than abyss after this life. Great choice in the Cohen song. One of my favorites.

    1. Thank you Keith. I don’t pray, but surprisingly, this came to me effortlessly — while it may not be a prayer, it feels like a prayer to me. I have read it frequently since I wrote — trying to understand it’s motivational origin.

  3. A radiant poem, Rob, and your use of meter and rhyme perfection. As a prayer it touched me deeply, reminded me of going to a monastery nearby for Saturday vespers as a young woman. I didn’t understand the ritual but it spoke to me anyway, helped me, something like what you describe here. What powerful imagery of a seeker’s vulnerability in that hallowed space: his faith frail, but aflame with “sacred love’s desire” as “one feels miracles being stirred,” the hope that “prayers are being heard” in the moment of “the world in amber splendor.” Every phrase is lit with, dare I say it, amazing grace.

  4. Hey Rob I couldn’t figure out how to get to your latest poem but the link you shared didn’t go anywhere and I deleted it. I was going to put the new one in but could not get to it so I am messaging you here.

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