Untitled Poem

Untitled Poem 



She is a woman 

in full possession of her power 

on legs that part the sea 

like word 

The Word 


and the earth and all that’s in it 

and I  


to keep up 


She is child 


she’s held the world 

she’s held other lovers 

other poets 

other melodies have moved her to song 

but the quiet storm of her vulnerability 

is a poem 

a prayer 

that only I have seen 


Early morning 

she checks the weather 

to see if the day matches her mood 

and the day listens 

intent to meet her 


The ring on her finger is mine 

the finger is hers 

the hand is hers 


I will be bound 

in flesh 

in land 

in song and in prayer 

in worship 

hand in hand 

to her 


Dark psalms rise inside my mournful heart 

threatening to steal 

as thieves 

twelve stones in the Jordan 

laid by the fingers of a God 

we only wish to serve 


She has her face 

God’s face 

in a necklace  

four winds rest softly on her breast 

and I press my lips to those winds 

and the song I sing 

is praise 


To her 

and her God 


As Ruth proclaimed 

where you go, I shall go 

where you stay, I shall stay 

your land shall be my land 

your people shall be my people  

and your God shall be my God 


I stand on this scripture 

carved into my own breath 

anointing my own candle 

to offer for her  

and every promise she has whispered  

to God 

for us 

for our love 

for the scripture that walks 

like her legs 

parting the sea 

and releasing 

each slave bound 

to a past I can no longer afford 


She is woman 

She is child 

She is home 


And in this home 

I abide 

and my children 

and my children’s children 

shall name her  


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