by Pavel Chichikov
Not a bright one, not the nicest
Religious pious faithful no
And yet he saw a figure, burning beast
Angel was it, cross the threshold of a door
He thought it was a messenger
Who made the shadows flee the walls
The curving fire that surrounds all darkness
Magnificence that gladdens and appalls
A cockerel it seemed, coq d'or
Robed in seething conflagration not consumed
Immaculately burning, nearly blinding
Enveloped not confined within a room
A tall comb-crown of many tongues and hues
A cobalt wattle-beard of fire –
Robe of iridescent spilling flame
Skirts of spreading incandescent wire
Yes he saw it, saw an angel
Or what he took to be such like
It was like nothing he could tell
So glorious one's heart would break
A creature wonderful but no hallucination –
Another saw, there was a sober witness,
Both within adjoining chambers then
Knew bright bewilderment but not distress
The creature filled the room with burning glory
Blinding though clear through –
An apparition from a near domain
Yet inaccessible unless by will it come
And did it speak? They said it did
The sound was like a mountain split, a hiss
Into the fire and abyss –
But afterward the two returned to what they were
For nothing may convert or move for long
Except an ordinary right or wrong,
And they no better than they were before
Described it as an incident, no more
Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.
Note: Pavel will read selections of his poetry at Franciscan University (Steubenville, OH) on January 25, 2002. For more information contact Pavel Chichikov.
