Grace… by Daniel Beaudoin



it lies
Dry. Shriveled.
He rushes,
down from the bed
to escape the scene;

the clammy folds of her salty warmth.

Naked he shifts
on the cold planks,
and through the frosted window above
lauds the imperially erect
as it sways in the moonlit clearing
of the forest
And the virgin snow
Emerges in a bluish cloud
of crystal


Come, she pleas softly
you are in fright my friend
but do not take flight,
and please,
for is it not
but only a moment in time?


And so away from the sight he returns
To once again in her glow
brave this, their first blow,
and to accept her gift,

an offering of Grace.

Under the white cover of trust,
together, they peer through the crystal cloud
as the tall pine threatens to decline
under the weight
of the virgin winter thrust.


Daniel Beaudoin is an artist, writer and academic working out of Israel. Sometimes the shadow of a line or a word, or the way colors merge on canvas, remind him of the possibility of Paradise. He remembers to breathe, this is important.

Copyright © 2013 by Daniel Beaudoin





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