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Lightmaker

Piercing the atmos-fear

By Rowan Finley Published 11 days ago • Updated 11 days ago • 1 min read

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!

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About the Creator

Rowan Finley

Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.

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    Written by Rowan Finley