Genesis 1:2-3
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
When losses rise, not anything can fill
The void excepting you. The paradox
Resulting from these losings makes them spill
Like springtime from the vernal equinox
As April light so you and you alone
Can fill the vacuum they cause and swell
It to a temple-like pursuit, atone
The losses like the tolling of a bell
Transformed to pealing celebration. You,
Your beauty far outweighs the tonnage of
A bourdon in a tower and brings to view
Jehovah’s meaning for the world, tongued love.
The hollowness inside one carillon’s
Bronze shapes expands across high heaven’s lawns.
~ Phillip Whidden
