The Paintings of Rouault

O Holy Spirit
we did not know
how strong you are
in our dull age
until we saw your colors
apple reds, transparent greens,
blue of truth,
laid upon the figurines
deep embossed in halos,
Gospel figures,
hooded, cloaked,
upon the road
or standing by a city doorway
drawn in heavy blackened brush
against the Holy skies
below refulgent light.
 
O blush of Love,
there never was a pink
like that on Pierette
and there we learned of human dawns,
for there was our expression,
there were mysteries,
the Kingdom come
to Modern poverty,
returning spirit,
deeper colors,
coming to redeem
humanity.
Comments are automatically closed two weeks after an article's initial publication. See our comments policy for more.
tom LAFRANCE
3 years 2 months ago
Like this poem. Please have more poems like this. Thank you!

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