unmoored

Unmoored by the afternoon,
I follow a coyote
along the crease
of the forest.
The hinge of everything
collects itself
to open something
up. If I try,
I can remember
the sounds of
this reverence:
the silence of the
loosestrife, the
scent of
a body larger
than the world,
incorrigible,
wild, and
limned with love.
---©Laura Sorrells 2013
all rights reserved

Your quiet nowhere
storms my emptied
world like a hawk,
a helpless lover
shining and nameless
in the tender
solitude of
this forest's night.
No other
moment has
this face's heart;
no other
fire loves what
it burns so
sweetly.

©Laura Sorrells 2012
all rights reserved

softer than

The language of slipstream and bridal veil
slides across some holy threshold,
a breath softer than the Spanish
songs that punctuate my dreams.
The patience of God shivers
in the ordinary shapes of grotto
and fern, dusky and wild
like the mystery
of rain summoned by prayer.
Everything is willing to be itself.
Whose forever can hold
such sweet chaos,
such grace?

©Laura Sorrells 2012
all rights reserved