Yearnings
White clouds are lovelier or much more bright
Than high blue domes. The sky above them both,
And clouds and Orthodox cathedral, write
A trinity of beauty, God’s own oath.
A prayer for monks to chant these three compete.
A shape of tiles in blue with stars of gold
Implies authority as aged as Crete
And perfect in belief as prophets old
In awe. Not just a vessel set on high,
The firmament hangs, like Jehovah set
It there, protecting worship as a sky
Should, offering a shield from every threat.
But clouds are truer since they clasp inside
Them white and gray—thus promises implied.
~ Phillip Whidden