This air that aches

Today I saw the sky.
No. I saw the sky
seeing me
in that black bent blue
where the hosts of heaven
play the clouds.
They pierce me, those ancient ones
with these nimbi,
so very soft,
so very strong.
Oh, to paint
a cloud,
a feather,
this air
that aches.


8 thoughts on “This air that aches

  1. Marie Taylor says:

    I like the ‘sky seeing me’. the holy communion.

  2. jannatwrites says:

    The sky is so expansive and mysterious. It’s comforting to think of it as an existence rather than “nothing.”

  3. shoreacres says:

    Interesting that we never think of air as a substance. Even the most insubstantial cloud, or the color of the sky, seems more “real” to us. And yet, we can live without clouds, we can live without blue, but there’s no living without that air.

    It’s intriguing, too, to think about the phrase: “in whom we live, and move, and have our being”. Our relationship to air is exactly that – and yet we never notice the air until our ability to take it in is constricted.

    • agjorgenson says:

      Nicely said. There is a study to be pursued in the theme of “taking for granted.” How is it that things that we depend upon, we fail to notice? The air is a very fine case in point, and I quite like the parallel you draw from that bit of Greek poetry. There is also, of course, that wonderful image of the Spirit as air moving, or air being moved, or that which moves the air… wow, there really are some possibilities there!

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