Peacock, the shimmer
trapped in your feathers
will not surrender to death.
The glory in your plumes speaks
of eternal gold and breath
reborn in lungs plague blackened.
Your eye feathers hold immortal’s vision.
Life in blood, bone, and flesh sends hope
God will collect our dust to raise our bodies
from tombs hollowed by sorrow.
The majesty of your movement
erases doubt the earth you stride
can ever own the wind ruffling your wings.
Oh what is beauty if it is only defined
by a mirror that denies the glory of the soul?
Blessed peacock, you teach us grace
is the heart’s paintbrush and our reflection
is an inward light no earthly artistcan translate to canvas.
©Susie Clevenger 2017
I attempted a more historical period feel in this poem other than my usual contemporary voice.