Lightmaker
Piercing the atmos-fear

He made the light grow
from the paintbrush of his voice.
Flowers exploded as fireworks
with the bubbly giggling of tiny babies.
Summersaults and salutations
elations and dance.
They maintained the innocence
as a whole saga of flowing youthfulness.
Smell of caramel drizzled as rain
in the air to the music of the squires.
Marble crosses were clutched tight
as eyes were wide in the night of angst.
Crusading hearts paused momentarily
reflecting on decisions who had ridden off
long ago on the backs of wild horses.
Twitching tree limbs creaked with spirit,
though they were limberly lying.
Fog billowed through night watches
some dozed, dreaming of winning battles
that had already roared in the heavens.
Rams horns echoed endlessly
blasting apart the layers of a sweet onion
reverberating through dripping caverns
and stirring dead stagnant things to
motion and life anew.
Hands lifted in surrendering praise
light rays of angels radiance pierced through the atmos-fear.
All creatures of all heights and sizes
praised the One who had fashioned
their frames and welcomed them by name.
The Lightmaker who had made the light
grow in each one of them!
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.