Dome
a poem by Monika Pillat, Romanian, translated into English by Ioana Zirra, Romanian. August 2024
There are no quickening angels in the air
But – here! – I make myself into Thy golden background
That might project, as do Byzantium mosaics,
Thine Own divine inscripted thought;
So – see! – we flit entwined into the vision
Of those who will come hither for a moment’s comfort,
Drawn to this place of ours devoid of walls.
Early and mid-Autumn photos of the Brandywine River Valley, Pennsylvania and Delaware; and the watershed of the Wissahickon Creek, Philadelphia.
The Dome is so wonderfully symbolic of the arc between heaven and earth which is why the earliest spiritual worship places employed it as a structure reflecting our spiritual nature and its connection to that above the earth while still anchored in our planet. I love your lacy photos, Sarah.