The Metrics and Religion of Us

We, agnostics in flight, prayed for safe arrivals
to a collage of bearded men with thorny crowns and
eyes holding sadness like porters upon cross.

Departures made us believers.
The scent of love in the warp and weft of cloth,
knitted loom of land, to hover above crop-lined pews
awaiting their own bladed prophet,
skidding across sky, peeling clouds from the rind of earth.

In the wake of cliffs, love stood in shaken distance
while I held you, caught skin of your neck
along with the grind of coffee and seat cushions under nails.
Our bags filled with folded shirts, pressed pants, pleated skirts
ready for the pull, living half packed lives, fisting
boarding passes and travel sized memories,
agreed it was the cost of being whole in the
paucity of our scattered selves.

In the frame of mountains, with our peaks align,
we are glorious.

cliff

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25 thoughts on “The Metrics and Religion of Us

  1. Just read this again and re-read it. Only REALLY splendid writing can stand many readings. That’s a truth. You are just so incredible. You’re excelling every expectation with your journey of words. You know how to knit them together, you’re like a spinner of words, I mean that, you really are, and it’s jealousy provoking in a very positive way, because you are a writer I should wish to be, a writer whom I’d always want to read, a writer who never does what you expect but always more. Good grief. I don’t think you know how good you are but I DO!

    1. The feeling is quite mutual, C! You know I love your work. I bought all three of your books and I’m loving them so much! A Jar for the Jarring is a mastery of description, flow and imagery. You’re an amazing talent my friend! Thank you for your generous comment. xx

  2. I just love that last two lines:
    “In the frame of mountains, with our peaks align,
    we are glorious.”
    What a great way to end a poem.
    This one such a treasure trove of language. You have dug for gold and come up rich.

      1. And are those suspenders in your photo, Professor, or is your parachute already attached? I would not be surprised if you traveled with a handy parachute for those leaping moments of yours.

  3. Just so you know I’ve read this SIX times now and I’m still loving it. This is an anthem for our lives. It is everything in such a small space. Good grief woman you pull out some incredible things from that magic hat of yours.

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