I place this bark betwixt
The grit of my teeth
And mouth a prayer.
Outside of God's closet,
This wood is where
Secrets sit with eyes closed.
In my home on the mount,
I will line the property with
This tree and around them
Will twine our river young.
Spring will come and those
White petals will float across
The water, waiting for us
To scoop them up in our hands
And welcome back joy.
If I knew well enough,
I would make ink from them
And write down my wishes
So that they may forever be.
We could sit beneath their
Watchful eye, peeling away
At the fallen leaves or
Twisting them into crowns
To top our heads.
If I knew well enough,
I would give you a flower
To keep you. To bring you
Back to me each spring.
In my home on the mount,
The sap will flow freely
And we'd only have to
Wish hard enough—love
Deep enough—for fulfillment.
What will life be like
When I remove this bark
From my chest and wipe
Away this veneer?
Do I long for the long days
Of summer and it's balmy nights
That harbor hope in my heart?
I want to be strong for us
And your eventual return,
So I whisper your good fortune
At the graves of my ancestors
And lay down another secret
To keep me in my fast.
I place this bark betwixt
My palms and reaffirm
The promise only meant
Our ears: that you will
Be the flowers of spring.
YOU ARE READING
In Lieu of the Expressionist
PoesiInfluenced by art, mythology, folklore, and alternative expressions, these poems are the culmination of growth over three years. Having had the chance the participate in a creative writing mentorship program, win an award (National Gold Medal in Poe...
