March 16, 2016

A Sacred Life Before Us. {Poem}

lauragrafie./ Flickr

Lying in the grass in the meadow across from my home in South Jersey, I began praying for the three-year-old boy who was found dead here in October last year.

I find myself visiting his memorial several times a week, trying to find peace around such a horrifying incident.

Words begin forming as my body surrenders to the frozen earth. This is the second poem in recent months I credit to little Brendan.

As convulsive tears warmly melt down my cheeks, I know his spirit somehow feeds my soul with the gift of a creative outlet. Its message relays God’s deep, abiding love for us—a relationship with a sacred space within. A trinitarian mind, body, spirit love affair.


Beloved Courtesan

gathering dissonant grief
as if in bridal bouquet
gallantly tossed
flick of wrist
into roar of nomad locomotive,
carting away
sorrow’s enduring remnants

heaven’s consort’s bosom
womblike embrace
for mortal, earthen vessel

lush, grassy tendrils tickle
cherished smiles

all the while
alluring petitions
up up up

amidst gaggles of geese
beholders of the vow
in cloudless, weightless

solidity awakening vibration
a conjugal melding
simply softly slowing
an exquisite

as above so below

blend me

until inquiry ceases


Relephant read: 

Sit With Me in the “I Don’t Know.”


Author: Anita Grace Brown

Apprentice Editor: Terry Price; Editor: Khara-Jade Warren

Image: lauragrafie./ Flickr


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