needs to be loved.
Its breath wants
the careful religion
of attention. Each
smoky sigh deepens
the wordless blessing
of this ache. My eyes wait
in the dark for the tender
call of Nothing.
Anywhere can be the
meeting-place of
hymn and emptiness,
the marriage bed
of praise and distance.
Listen for that
conversation, and
be ready
to leave your life.
©Laura Sorrells 2012
all rights reserved
Photograph and poem are beautifully matched in selective focus. My compliments!
ReplyDeleteI did not heed the photograph. The poem speaks for itself.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Both comments make me very happy. I wrote this yesterday while on retreat at the Trappist monastery in Conyers, sitting by a small lake.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this reflection. It was good to slow down for a moment with your words.
ReplyDeleteI am glad.
ReplyDelete