blake’s heaven

thinking of blake’s heaven,
angels of light
ascending, descending
the rose and golden stair;
the sun of heaven
shining,
the london prophet
writing the burnished
plate of the sky.
beneath my feet
the soft-pressed field,
the sheep penned,
the lambs coming,
and did those feet
in ancient time?
five o’clock,
the february sun
falls
holy,
lamb of god
were you ever
more beautiful?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s