Beyond All Bearing
In winter, when pines weary,
When aligned limbs quiver with longing,
And the ground moans under gravity’s weight,
It’s then, through the northern night
That concentric silver circles radiate
Like wind-borne waves racing shoreward,
Beautiful beyond all bearing.
. . . . . . . .Swifter still—
God speeds across the cosmos
Earthward, arms open wide.
by Susan Delaney Spear
Editor’s Note: “Anglo-Saxon strong stress alliterative meter with tiny variations” is how Susan describes her poem. I simply read it for the imagery—a light so brilliant in the cold dark that all one can do is stand there and stare.
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