The Black Hours Poem by John F. McCullagh
The Black Hours
It's too delicate to touch, but beautiful to behold.
An Illuminated prayer book, from Bruges, I've been told.
The unknown artist carbonized vellum taken from a sheep,
Into a thing of beauty that is not mine to keep.
The images are beautiful, a celebration of the Divine,
a testament of faith from another place and time.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: religious
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
mediation on the 'Black Hours' an illuminated manuscript on black vellum made in Bruges during the age of Faith
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 10:22:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
