gesturing with backflung hand at life led
she says
nothing so special about Jesus
all of us walk atop drowning
words and hurt and loss and disappointment fall as rain
pool in the lacking
swell to swallow
yearn for purchase with the moon
she kneels
brushes the carved extent
of child in stone
fills with salted water
the letter N
the number 4
says again
we walk atop drowning
each of us defined by depths
yes
watch me walk away
a miracle
Ah, but there is.
Not within the world of these words.
Defined by depths. Yes. That.
*nods head*
that
Four is a curious number, in some Asian cultures associated with death; same number of letters as value, hmmm.
What about the letter N? Name of God, initial?
These words feel brave…defiant perhaps. I want to reread. Intriguing.
Hugs to you, my lovely reader of poetry.
Thank you.
Hmm. Suspect I’ll be parsing this little gem many, many times, gathering a few more insights each time. Thanks.
You are very welcome.
Thank you for stopping by to read and comment.