Awe
descends
like snowflakes
in the silence
finding asylum
in the holy places
where it perches plump and blue
a quiescent electric spark
sent to shock the soul from its stasis
with a sudden gasp of winterclean air
Bluebird in the falling snow this afternoon, perched on the birdhouse my father-in-law made when my boys were small. They still call it “Pa-Pa’s bird church.” Those sparks are reflections of my Christmas tree lights in the window where I stood to capture this picture of awe.
lit bits and pieces 
“Asylum in the holy places” what a beautiful image this pulls up for me, especially as I see the picture you took of the bluebird on ““Pa-Pa’s bird church.” An awe-filled moment! Thank you for sharing your etheree poem and photo.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Ramona. I had to capture that image and preserve it – awe, indeed.
LikeLike
Yay, bluebird! I love your concrete Etheree poem that is shaped like ‘Pa Pa’s bird church.” Fran, your beautiful poem settled over me like a blanket bringing
me warmth, peace, awe, and joy. Thank you, my friend. It’s like you knew I needed to read and breathe in your “winter clean air” poem to my soul. I love every word and every line of personification that has flowed through me. A bluebird is awe for me, too. I enjoyed all your alliteration, consonance and assonance.
My bluebirds have been coming in a group that take turns eating the beef lard. Two of them look like juveniles. The poor downy woodpeckers make a quick dive trying to scare off the bluebirds, but the bluebirds don’t budge. Then, the finches come to the nyger seeds in one feeder and the safflower and black-oil sunflower seeds in the other feeder. The bluebirds aren’t scared off by the finches, either. The downy woodpeckers persist trying to get a bite in. It’s like a winter bird party. Finally, the bluebirds have had enough and fly away. The finches take off, too. The downy woodpeckers fly back to the beef lard. It’s almost as if I hear them tweeting, “Finally, it’s our turn again.” I think I have to write a poem about this bird party. Thank you for sharing your poem and your inspiration. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
You absolutely must write a poem about your bird party, Gail. I love woodpeckers also. I’ve been seeing many hawks here – I know they are predators but they are stunning. Thank you for letting me know the effects of the poem, that it settled over you like a blanket and brought peace, awe, and joy – this is a joy to know!
LikeLike
A bluebird sighting is so rare here. I am in awe of yours and atop that bird church surrounded by twinkle lights. Ah, yes…Awe descends.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My husband came tiptoeing through the living room whispering “Psst! Come see!” or I might have missed this awesome sight. The photo doesn’t do justice – a bit out of focus as I had to do take it quickly and through the open blinds. The bluebird was so beautiful…and such a plump little thing!
LikeLike
What a beautiful poem inspired by a beautiful sighting. What a word choice!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The etheree works so beautifully here, Fran. It mimics the snowfall the way the words fall down like individual snowflakes and collect at the ground. Such beautiful imagery –
That shock out of stasis is no joke. It does have an electrifying jolt right at the inhalation….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kim – the etheree seemed a good way to capture the awe I felt on seeing that bluebird perched on the cross – just so beautiful. That sighting, the gift of that day! As is any encounter with you!
LikeLike
Ahhh, the soft “s” sound interrupted by an “electric shock.”
Isn’t this how awe works in our lives? We are quietly watching and suddenly there peace is interrupted by an eclectic discovery.
LikeLike
Of course I meant “electric spark”…
LikeLike