Heaven

“May the Lord watch between me and thee while

we are apart one from another.” -Genesis 31:49

 

If only he could go somewhere where I could go.

Not deeper into alone, for if the dead float then

 

I could still reach him. But in order to enter the

river I must learn to swim—he was always a

 

natural at that while I was consumed with fear.

Maybe God would let me unravel the stitches

 

on your lips and you could tell me how—how

you swim and how you float, because I want to

 

float along side you, but I can’t reach you while

your there—we always said “see you on the other

 

side” and we were always joking, but now–now I

really need to see you on the other side because

 

love makes you blood and blood is blood so tell me

how our bodies pumped with the same blood can

 

float along the same river. I know God needed you

but so do I. So maybe we can share you, or at least

 

let you talk to me because I see you out on

the water, so God send me a boat.

 

 

-after Traci Brimhall’s Dear Thanantos 

Journey

The distance between two points

increases over time—like a map

being stretched little by little every

day. Force it too far and it snaps like

an old, overused rubber band. Instead

give it a rest and fold it in half a few

times. Though now, the map is distorted

and can no longer navigate from point

A to point B efficiently. Instead, the

journey entails trekking over folds

and bends and dead-ends until you

reach your destination with much

frustration. While the long expedition

leaves you with bumps and bruises

you are also left with a good story and

a map filled with memories within every

fold and bend and dead end.

 

Holistic

My time with you is limited—all I hear is the

metronome of our descending clock

reverberating through my mind.

 

I want to take a piece of you with me when I go—

 

Tuck your laughter under my arm like a book of

poetry so I can read it whenever I please—

 

Then stuff your arms in my pockets so I can feel

your warm embrace whenever I’m feeling down.

 

But I can’t cut pieces of you like I can slice a piece of pie—

 

I can have all of you or none of you. But I don’t ever

want to choose none of you.

Bath

There was a sparkle in God’s eye when he told the clouds to

drape the sky like a lace covering;

 

patches of blue show through like skin through the open

stitching of a white lace dress.

 

The rain wraps around the city like a cold embrace that

envelops everything within,

 

until the only option is to collapse beneath its authority.

Because soon, the city realizes that

 

their skyscrapers needed to be brushed with the strokes

of water and their streets needed

 

to be swept by the broom of the droplets in order for it to

be made anew because sometimes

 

it doesn’t take the intense scrubbing of a bleach-stained

sponge to cleanse the city of its poison,

 

all it takes is a little pure rain to adorn the city and rinse

everything within and

 

God knew that when He told the clouds to drape the sky

like a lace covering.

Birds of a Feather

For the first time in her life, she felt like a sea

shell—something to be picked up, looked at,

 

maybe admired by some, but soon thrown

back into the sand without a second thought.

 

She didn’t want that—she didn’t want to be a

silver charm that hangs on a bracelet and bangs

 

against the countless other charms she’s beside.

No one will notice her stuck in the sand or blending

 

in on a bracelet for she looks just like everyone

else. She wanted to be a colorful feather on a

 

bird, one that helps it go from bland to beautiful, so

beautiful that it is impossible to get lost in a sea of

 

sand or a line of charms, for she is unique and always

comes prepared with a map to lead her back to herself,

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