Poetry | Catalyst


Catalyst

© 2020 Vernon Miles Kerr, VernonMilesKerr.com

This morning before the sky lost black
I stood beneath a half-pie moon
With Orion and the dog star at my back
And could not but pray thanks, to the Unknown God
Who set this heavenly array on high —
But then I relented, with a sigh,
Remembering the forces long ago
Which scientifically spread this show.

I stood awhile, still unconvinced
Still filled with a tiny creature’s awe
At such apparent majesty —
No matter how mundanely made.

Perhaps the miracle was not the making
But the spark within this lizard-brain,
The catalyst, that allows it to feel this awe
And give the feeling an awe-spawned name:
Beauty.

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