The Glass-Blowers Of Murano, Venice Poem by Michael Walker

"The Glass-blowers Of Murano, Venice"

Chubby cherubs with testicles of glass
Perch upon the mouth of the dragon,
Golden, solid, yet without a mass,
As amber cider spouts from a flagon.

If crystal mists could be distilled as glass,
In angelic splendor glistening,
Then we intend intense instants to last,
With the voices of Venice listening.

Blow life into glass as long as it glows!
Else it shall turn to sand with passing hours,
While where life comes from, or goes, no one knows,
Except as was revealed by Heaven's powers.

For human beings may seem the most agile,
But like glass angels, our lives are fragile.