A quarantine sonnet inspired by a photo on a late afternoon walk near Monument Rock, and written out of the pensive pool of pandemic ponderings about light and life on the way to seventy.
Seeing Through the Artist's Heart
I was contemplating the role of the artist in my life of faith. I envisioned myself inside an enclosed room, walled in on all sides by this thing called time. Outside the solid yet opaque walls of my time box was eternity—the endless expanse of time and space. But there were windows in the walls of the time box.
