Sophia's Gold
Her sound unrolls a bolt of star-woven cloth,
Her dance steps the spiral galaxies.
Sophia’s signature: the stars, the inner ear,
logos rhythms of nautilus shells, whorled
sunflower centers, DNA.
Sophia, we forgot your light filled flowers—
ancient people carved your name
in caves, upon rock faces.
A young girl dances among coltsfoot—
in the forest a fawn stands for the first time—
mermaid purses wash on shore from the sea.
White milk flows from the golden dome
where the ancient world worshiped:
Hagia Sophia.
A fern bursts through black asphalt,
a nun tends the dying in Calcutta,
an artist designs a rose window,
an unknown composer writes a hymn to Sophia:
Sophia’s sound and dance is
turning coltsfoot gold
click the link
--Barbara Spring
excerpted from my book Sophia's Lost and Found.
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