Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: Vision (08/03/06)
- TITLE: Beyond the Glass
By Kenn Allan
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And asked my soul to keep,
I started drifting aimlessly
Between awake and sleep.
I floated o'er a craggy shore
Which lined a crystal sea,
Its waters made of mirrored glass,
Encrusted with debris.
With grace beget of heaven's wings
I braved a slow descent;
To view what lay below the grime
My first and true intent.
But once alighted from the sky
With all my earthly mass,
I found the surface far too smudged
To let discernment pass.
“Oh! how strong must my vision be
To see beyond the glass?”
Then came an answer to my plea
With ire less than discreet—
A flask dropped by a passing gull
Directly at my feet.
Persuaded it could clear the sea
I quickly snatched my spoil,
But found it filled with reeking swill
Of sweat from fruitless toil.
But all is not as sometimes seems;
Thus eagerly I tore
A strip of linen, white and clean
From filthy rags I wore.
With perspirative zeal I scrubbed,
But sight remained denied,
As blurred reflections of myself
Obscured what hid inside.
"Oh! how clear must my vision be
To see beyond my pride?"
Two albatross from different shores
Engaged in winged embrace,
Then circled far above my head
To drop an azure vase.
It shattered in a brilliant spray
Of melancholy spheres,
And soaked the surface of the sea
With unrequited tears.
Anticipation filled my eyes
As waves of teardrops fell,
In hopes this washing of the glass
Would serve my mission well.
But evanescent hopes were dashed
As streams of mourning rain
Flowed o’er my work already done
And formed a murky stain.
"Oh! how deep must my vision be
To see beyond the pain?"
I fell upon the crystal sea;
My expectations thin
That I should ever see the depths
And mysteries therein.
But as I knelt upon the glass,
There came from far above
The gentle fluttering of wings
And cooing of a dove.
O’er my sweat-stained toil he flew,
And through the tearful flood,
With a vial gripped in his beak,
Which held three drops of blood.
He dropped his treasure in my hand;
This garnered my dismay—
How could these beads of crimson life
Help clear the murk away?
"Oh! how quick must my vision be
To see beyond today?"
But as the droplets touched the glass
The crystal burst with light;
All unclean deeds and anguished dreams
Were banished from my sight.
And in a flash of blessed hope
The LORD appeared to me,
His visage stretched along the shore
And filled the sullen sea.
But as I tried to peer around,
He rose to block my way,
And filled my outlook just with Him
Before I heard Him say—
“When all the things of earthly due
Hath surely come to pass,
Shall then your spirit be allowed
To look beyond the glass.”
Another burst of blinding light
Exploded in my head ...
I rubbed the sunlight from my eyes
And sat upright in bed.
Dream or vision? Both could be—
Yet neither will surpass
The vast imaginations kept
Where mysteries amass.
"Oh! how I cannot wait to see
What waits beyond the glass."
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