Roeun Cathedral

Rouen Cathedral

Its stands ghostly pale

Blocking morning sun

Which dances just out of sight

Upon the glorious spires

Hands reach out to light

A mortal but an ant

Too small to climb the

Heavens

But how glorious

To rise from cold darkness

Into warmth victorious

How the workers toiled

Carved each brick

Swarms of hands

Legs and backs

Heaving under heavy loads

To form timeless majesty

Bringing awe of cosmos

Down to earth

A ladder to the stars

The creator in our midst

Almost, just out of reach

Beyond the ceiling of concrete

If only to know that

So above so below

And in the morning darkness

Cold and crisp

The warmth of light

Inside us glows.

RUTH LAMBERT

1/10/2019

Rouen Cathedral, West Facade -
Monet 1894

Winter's Morning

Winter’s Morning

On a cold winter’s morning I look out my kitchen window.

My apartment lies on the third floor of the old building.

I float in a world of tree branches.

The leaves are long gone but a couple hang on.

The trees are far from their forest home.

The soot and dust from the city coat them with grime.

But the birds don’t seem to mind.

The bare branches are ghostly in the grey morning mist.

A bird with white feathers in its tail, hops from branch to branch.

I pause studying it as I wake slowly from my sleep.

It cocks it’s head from left to right.

A spark of joy in winter calling out to me.

I gaze delighted in his dance.

As soon as he arrives, he swiftly departs,

Leaving a soft impression in my beating heart.

The tree stands bare but a couple leaves hang on.

RUTH LAMBERT

1/3/2019