Alliteration Contest Poems: In the Spirit of Bezalel, Liv Ross

Liv Ross is an urban monk, a poet, a storyteller, and a student of Christian spirituality. When she’s not writing, Liv practices gardening, pipe-smoking, leather-working, and mischief.

In the Spirit of Bezalel

I take a breath.
I breathe out a flame,
for Your flame has been breathed into me.

My eyes are on the prize,
gazing at the gifts
held in these hands
rising to the task of creation.
Art is born of abundance,
and abundant are the ways
in which to amend awe
into the soil of civilization.

It all begins with beauty.

Yes, beauty. For you best believe
that life and laws have limits
when nothing guides our gaze
or grips our guts,
holds our hearts
safe
against the world's weather.

Beauty lies in the eyes of we who behold it.
Daily, we drink of deep drafts like dewdrops
and tip out the tenderest of threads -
slender, silver spidersilks -
woven into the warp and woof of wonder.

Consider.
Even the carrion crow carries
iridescent radiance in a certain slant of light.
Or amethyst and gold.
A perfect pair to paint a pasture
in the form of asters and
goldenrod, growing gathered
though no one knows why.
Except that it is beautiful.

Or perhaps the magnificent!
Perhaps Mt. Hood rising in the distance!
Or the stormclouds stumbling
lumbering over Kansas cornfields
flashing forth lightning, lighting
the sultry summer evening.
Or
(loveliest of all)
that lingering look of longing
that lives in a Lover's eyes.

The Sovereign Spirit sets these seeds,
these miracles in miniature,
too many to mention,
waiting for this woman to witness
and put pen to paper (or paint to plaster)
-- to memorialize the marvelous
and bring it all back
To beauty.

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