Blue he said is the light the light is blue.
The glowing points of blue in Christian glass.
If you were forced to live indoors—what if you
liquified the sky stone trees and grass

 

into a test tube, opened it inside:
might you feel sorry for yourself in there?
Or idly steel your mind bed down and ride
the fragrance? Smoke unraveling in air,

 

that marks a splintered forest smashed, bound tight
put down on hearth and burnt up: watch the steep
flames’ leap of resurrected light!
The pale drunk-making softness, bristling-deep.

 

     The reconstructed sky is cramped but true.
     A reconstructed body’s like that too.

Introduce yourself to The New Criterion for the lowest price ever—and a receive an extra issue as thanks.

This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 14 Number 9, on page 41
Copyright © 2019 The New Criterion | www.newcriterion.com
https://newcriterion.com//issues/1996/5/viollet-le-duc