On the writing:
I had forgotten about the agreement to write a little about the process of writing, so in part this is a bit of a response to what Justin has written. My process of counting a reading aloud and working the syllables and words is very much like his. I never really slipping into a natural cadence with this poem and so there are parts I would change.
That being said, like him, Shelly loomed large in my thoughts as I wrote. After all, we were writing on metamorphosis and as a Christian there is a metamorphosis we all look forward to and in the last two months I have looked forward to all the more. She is not the topic of my poem, nor am I, but it is the thoughts of a man thinking about that very change; from flesh and futility to spirit and hope.
Not found, but Given
Illuminate umber revealing gold
My torch held reflecting off my worn ring
Earnest meaning in discovered wellspring
Telling assurances of one foretold
A man will bleed to make success unfold
Malayan gem sought to support offspring
One day this futile quest my end will bring
Replace the mortal heat for winter's cold
Prepare the shell with tears and box and shroud
Holy transcendence draws divided gaze
Opaque clouds part and eyes with light endowed
Sistine fresco in which to spend my days
Immense bounty before excited crowd
Songs deep compelled I cry with ancient praise
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