Choir Boy With Woman’s Face

At Evensong at Grace a little after dusk
A white-robed boy haunts me as he sings
His older woman’s face somehow familiar
An ancient archetypal face
Mask of quiet beauty newly disturbed
By some unsettling news
News that concerns the fate of her heart
For as we learn with age
Not every broken heart will mend
Not every cloud will yield a vein of silver.

A cloud is the woman in this young boy’s face.

Pretty cloud boy possessed of woman scared
His young heart pumping overtime to drive the bellows
With air enough to feed them both
And over tongue and out of oval mouth
Soar soprano cries that bathe the ears in waters warm
And enter every soul in reach
With divine daggers flashing
His cries like fingers flick
Our fragile snow globe worlds
Mere confections our myriad protections
Their domes of snowy sugar sky burst to his tonal touch
And all water, all sky
All atmosphere runs out.

But all is not lost
Far from it
We’ve gained!

For with the boy’s next high note
God’s love rewinds time
Reconfigures fate
Mends broken hearts
Swirls skyward heretofore lost elements
Of precious snow globe life
Water reforms itself
A wave breaking in reverse
Sugar crystallizes once more and in the fragile heart
All is mended, all is well.

Hallowed be thy name the angel boy sings
His cloud is a mutable thing
Lovely as one that on a bright blue sky day
Hides the sun just long enough that lovers in a field
Cheek to cheek, eyes skyward heads back
Sprawled out on grass
may see the shape of love in it
And silver lining shining through
As cloud moves on and sun bedazzles
May close their eyes and listen
To angel song filtering down
From high above where heavenly choirs
Work round the clock
To sing away the burdens of our days.

© Rick McKinney June 30, 2009

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