Transfiguration Sitting between the law and prophets, The word that holds them together, Bound not in letters transcribed But in glorified flesh and bone. It is good to be here but not to stay. Mountain rest must be spoken in the valley. Transfiguration comes by going down; Our perishable seed planted for the imperishable. Dew of Tabor collects into a stream, Watering the fields prepared for glory; Holy potential we glimpse in Spring As light illuminates vivid hues Born in tulips and daffodils, Woken by the piping of playful crocus: Delicate as children, in carefree laughter. Even the canopy of cherry blossoms bear Splendor as which graced the visage of Moses, Who spoke plainly with God as to a friend. He veiled his face to hide what was fading in the Old, Longing to behold the unfolding of the New Made manifest in blooming buds And green blades of young grass, Caught up in the song and dance of Creation. Never to what has been but what will be. Transfiguration comes by growing up. It is good to be here, to rest awhile; Bound not in letters transcribed But in the word made flesh around, Over our heads and under our feet, Nourished by the dew of Tabor.
James Robert Kibby is an accomplished songwriter and aspiring poet whose love for creative writing began when he authored and illustrated his first comic book at age 11. James has poems published through Calla Press and The Voices Project and is currently working on his first poetry collection.
Amethyst Review 