I need your help because I have been having a terrible time writing the end of this poem. Whenever I try to add more, the description seems trite. But I am also not sure if the ending (as it is now) is sufficient. So I want your opinions as fresh readers of this poem. Does this ending feel “unfinished” yet add an appropriate sense of anticipation for whatever the reader might imagine comes next? Or does it feel “unfinished” because it really does need more? Or something else? I welcome your thoughts. Alas, as usual, wordpress does not allow me to format words of the poem to my liking, so this rendering with dashes substituted for spaces will have to do. I am trying to win a poetry scholarship, so please do be as critical as you think you need to be — I’ve torn it apart and put it back together so many times, it can stand more tearing and rebuilding.
Gabriel and Michael exchanged
The cherubim blushed and
Bent ruffled plumage
Across their hundred busy eyes,
As the Son’s cry echoed, shrill
And ungainly, across the heavens.
They braced themselves for the mighty
Reply but heard
At last a reticent Gabriel flew
To the oaken door of the lapis room
Where the Father sat slumped
On a three-legged stool,
Gripping the world in this right hand
And a bottle of Laphroaig in his left.
A long, wilted sigh came from the
Linen curtains which rippled
Behind the silver throne as the Spirit
The Father did not even
Look up. “I heard,” was all.
Gabriel left as quietly
As he had come.
But as Gabriel shut the door,
The seraphim began to snort and
paw the clouds, furiously pumping their
like hummingbirds that do not burn.