Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SKY WRITING, by MARY FINETTE BARBER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SKY WRITING, by                    
First Line: She heard in town of the way he took
Last Line: That glints in the sun like an aeroplane.
Subject(s): Bible


She heard in town of the way he took;
And she turned for comfort to The Book.

But she read till she looked on sights uncanny—
Oh, a queer one, sure, was Farmhouse Annie,

With visions to make a prophet stare
As she sat at night alone in her chair.

Over the fields a raw wind mowed,
And she ceased to rock, and only sewed.

And she stopped her ears, yet there came a sound
As of a rumble underground.

It was the chimney! It was a mouse!
It was out of doors and over the house!

She flung the door back, and a whirr
Of angels' wings swung down to her.

Then a plane soared up like a golden bird,
But the throbbing of harps was all she heard,

And all she saw had grown old in mind,
Treasured behind the darkened blind:

Lucifer, dropped like a falling star;
The orange blaze of Elijah's car;

The rain of the old appointed fire
On Bel in Babylon, Teman and Tyre;

The warning hand, the curves and all
The writing on the dark blue wall—
Her house had been so small, so small!

But high on the night sky God found room,
Though she marveled a bit at the end of doom,

Fuddled to place a sudden luster
Of roses opening in cluster—

Golden roses with no name,
Broken to dripping petals of flame.

Then the harps strummed home. But set adrift,
So that the end be not too swift,

Blew toward her slowly a point of flame—
The Three Wise Men had seen the same,
That night the little Lord Jesus came.

She watched this glory floating, dying
(Standing alone—the cold wind crying).

She strained her ears for the died-out whirr,
But sound nor sense came back to her.

Now she knew the word of The Book come true,
And she wanted him, to tell it to.

But she waited long for the dull footfall,
Till the logs fell down, and she drew her shawl.

Only the small black clock, tick-tocking,
But still she listened, and held from rocking—

Her eyes strained bright as a fleeting rain
That glints in the sun like an aeroplane.





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