This week’s poem in the Catholic Poetry Room is by P.C. Scheponik.
The sun pours itself like love,
warming the newborn leaves on the trees,
bathing the soft brown feathers of sparrows
that feed in the cracks of concrete along
the curb of the street, searching for any crumb
of bread or wind-blown seed.
The sun casts an aethereal shimmer over the dune grass
and ignites the sea with waves made of fireborn diamonds.
Listen to the wind sigh.
Look at the sky arch its great blue…