Sprinkling

-

SPRINKLING


— “Accept the sacrifice of praise from those who 

      call upon You with their whole heart.” *

      


And from us who call with some, not all,

accept that the withholding is unintentional. 

Yes, we confess there remains a portion


wholly dedicated to the contemplation

of how uncomfortable our knees

are. We have tried to rip it off. Unfortunately 


the skin comes too. And true, the hours after 

this exchange have also claimed a sliver 

for themselves. Selfish bastards. 


Say, might a lack of focus be considered

damning? There! You see? Uninvited

questions, too. Allow us to re-affirm that


the withholding is unintentional

and does not reflect our eval-

uation of the recipient in any way. 


What follows is a request, submitted via 

metaphor, which creating (in itself) admittedly 

detracted from what is rightfully 


yours. As such, forgive us that. 

But enough delay: Deep-Run Roots,

both void of thirst and parched for


praise, if not a summer down-pour, 

per se, receive nonetheless the light

afternoon drizzle that makes it through. 




*The Divine Litrugy of St. John Chysostom

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

7th Period

-
7th PERIOD Safe to assume we’ve probably got it  mostly wrong, or if not quite wrong  then likely a right that’s misinterpreted the question. That being said, students,  the fact remains that at the construction site  behind the classroom there’s a trailer-load of 2-by-10’s used to frame the concrete  foundation that I struggle to believe  they’re throwing away. Perhaps  it would be a more advantageous  use of our day were we to spend what’s left  of class time shouldering lumber across campus to the bed of my truck.  I, for one, plan on spending a few afternoons of my remaining puzzlement to puzzle  together a table where my children can pick up the pondering where I left off. It seems as good  a use of time as any. It's coarse work, but with every pass of the paper you can’t help  but feel that you’re getting somewhere,  like maybe, in the proverbial 8th period,  we’ll get up from our desks and gather roun...
Read more

The Bends

-
 THE BENDS           At a certain depth the voices all thrum at the same, garbled pitch.  Both wisdom and the waiting swarm of bees call you up for air,  both wisdom and the Anglerfish draw you deeper. Do you paddle faster  from Leviathan or close your eyes and wait?  Once inside, do you stab the tender heart or caress it? There’s leagues on leagues but we’re in  out of ours and the tanks are low. You die if you come up too quick, you die  if you don’t surface soon, and at this sounding we won’t be dragged out by the light  of the moon. As to good news, t he returned ship sloshes vacant  at port while the wreck is found  at rest on solid ground, home now  to an ecosystem riddled with life.
Read more

Refurbished

-
REFURBISHED The ladybug dies  wedged in wicker,  is spray-painted green.  Disassemble yourself.  Free trampoline.   Not one to jump to conclusions, but if even pipe-smoke throws a shadow in moonlight, nothing is ever full- nothing, right?  The trees agree to lower the veil  and reveal the bare strip of road which runs behind the house.  The white roar of leaving  never leaves, and the porch  light flickers but never goes out.  In a world of partially resurrected things, the quick and the dead dance a tango then collapse in a tangled heap to make  furious love till morning shakes the can and picks a fade-resistant shade of light.
Read more