POEM: PASS / PRAY / PUCKER

in #poem7 months ago

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If death
the door, it must be
then I
with trembling hands
and doorways see

My ascent
the stair, and falling
by ways
all toe-stubbed attempts
to end my maze

My passing
the threshold, altar call
for I
cannot become
'til being ends

My becoming
the entry, grey fields
as I
haven't blinked
with these eyes

My going
the traverse, color binds
when I
give birth
forevermore


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two hands...

one to palm the suffering
the other to fold for blessing

one to press seeds under dirt
the other to pluck flowers

one to scrape shovels into rock
the other to mold mountains

one to wave goodbye
the other to cup from the fountain

two praying hands

become one


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she presses her lips
after a cursed rejection
to know your pucker