26

I sit with the moon
when everyone else
is tucked away, dreaming
I recite the stars
like a litany
rolling them
around my mouth
touching each tooth
one by one until I have
emptied the sky

25

I hold the disk of the moon
under my tongue
and count to one hundred
I feel it dissolve
as the silvery coolness
slips down my throat
curls in my belly
I swallow the moon
then keep her wisdom
in my blood
under my skin
no one knows
but they can see
I am radiant

You might want to take a peek at Verse Escape.

 

God’s Kitchen

mag 162 yerka jacek_mind fields_between heaven and hell
Image by Jacek Yerka, Between Heaven and Hell

I have always imagined God as a woman;
and though She is timeless,
She looks to be
(to me)
in her middle-sixties.

I picture Her with
short, salt and pepper hair
and sparkling eyes –
not unlike my undergraduate adviser
Margaret Odegard,
who would throw back her head
and laugh a magnificent laugh if she knew.
(And so would God, because
I’m quite sure She has
an outstanding sense of humor.)

Though God does not wear tweed, like Dr. O.
In my mind She dresses in sunbeams, starlight,
clouds, hemp and linen.
And sensible shoes.
God did NOT create high heels.

And most assuredly God would have a cat in Her kitchen.
And rows and rows of pots and crocks and jars
filled with darkness and light and creeping things,
and baskets of stars,
and bushels of peaches,
and a huge stoppered bottle
full of annoying people,
and another with mosquitoes
and large bin of dinosaurs and sea monsters
all mixed up together.

Then She created the Earth and saw that it was good.
But She knew She could do better…
particularly if She went easier on
the obnoxious people and the mosquitoes;
so She keeps trying.

And in spite of Genesis,
I think God spends
every Sunday afternoon
cooking up new worlds.
So that’s where She can be found,
in Her wonderfully cluttered kitchen.

And by the way, you’re always welcome in
for a chat and a cuppa.’