Genuflections of Open

…as much as she longed to, she didn’t approach him:

there was no room, only he was there, giving

a radiance that hurt her eyes…


Crying, she was relieved that the pain

made her eyes water.  Just the simple


act of shedding tears, even if it was simply

a physical response, makes her feel


like a mountain side being eroded

by the beating waves of some polluted


ocean, or an icecap melting down

to the deep.  Erosion is a form of melting


or eclipsing strength.  With a hard

swallow, she tries to speak, but no


sounds would pass her parched

lips.  Terror took her, cradled her


every inch, shrinking her, clearing

the breath right out of her chest.  She gasps


in delight of openness: the essence of divinity

in the movement of humid air.  Her graces come


from a slow controlled inhale ready to

embrace the burdens of godless dervishes


spinning everything around so it moves faster

than she can notice.  She’s distilled from the tisk,


tisk, tisk, let go of bitterness, if you don’t it will

just fill you.  Sitting right back into herself becoming her


own chair, comfortable there, despite something

sinister spinning.  All of the angels did sing,


while waiting to stand in

for everything:  lists of names


dancing out of time.



1 Comment

  1. love this and can feel it immensely. a line that particularly love the best is: erosion is a form of melting or eclipsing strength.

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