By L.M. Shearer The sun caught each fiber, sparkling clean curled wool, white as clouds, translucent as a drift of snow that covered everything, that forgave every imperfection in the landscape. The fire was hot, and it drew the eyes to it, blackened the sand beneath it, turned the skin red who came near it, to be warmed by it. The roar of the ocean was a heartbeat in the ears, was breath leaving the lungs, was a waterfall consuming every sound. Seven flaming stars spread like cards on a velvet table, strewn like seven bright diamonds on a jeweler’s bench. The sun bright in summer, and the body craved it, but the eyes could not look at it, highest and hottest summer sun, it left no shadows, no shade under it. John saw this, he saw all of it within one man, and in that sight lest he die, fell down before his feet as one already dead. And the Son-of-Man like-snow like-fire like-stars like-ocean like-burning-sun said “Fear not” L.M. Shearer is a high school and Sunday school teacher from the beautiful Pacific Northwest, USA. She volunteers as a Court Appointed Special Advocate, studies theology in her spare time and has occasionally written poems on post-it notes at work.
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