devotion…

It was the spanking freshness of the morning
that encouraged devotional reading so I
cracked open a book by a writer devoted to
memory and hope, the only words capable of
buoying us in our current dystopian swirl.
The lines I read were not interested in
instruction but rather sound and association,
event and image. The margins around the lines
were sentinels giving fierce protection to the
unfathomable that happens between language
and a singular heart and mind.
Then I lifted my eyes and the words became
flesh – the rabbit I spy most mornings cutting
across my grass to the neighbor’s lettuce, his
dew-heavy feet having to pass the irises just
blooming a shade of purple that causes me to
remember a dress my mother used to wear when
was a boy, back when I discovered mystery is
not challenge to intelligence but a bosom. 

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12 Comments

  1. pottersinn on May 31, 2012 at 1:08 pm

    John, this one is a KEEPER. Perhaps one of your best ever! A privilege to read! Thank you.

  2. consolationofmirth on May 31, 2012 at 1:55 pm

    “…mystery is not a challenge to intelligence but a bosom.” Yes! Brilliant. Wonderful. Mystery. What an encouragement for me. Thank you.

    • thebeautifuldue on June 1, 2012 at 11:19 am

      You are quite welcome…I’m glad it encouraged you in some way.

  3. mike graves on May 31, 2012 at 2:37 pm

    It is indeed the glory of Kings to search out a matter.I plan to have a good visit with you, someday, in The Houses of The Holy, sir.

  4. patriciaspreng on June 2, 2012 at 2:17 am

    There is so much about this that is wonderful. I love Mike’s comment … what a great party that will be.

    • thebeautifuldue on June 2, 2012 at 12:47 pm

      Patricia, I may be fashionably late, but I’ll be there…

  5. Laure on June 2, 2012 at 3:00 am

    That the mind takes trails as rabbits do is a pleasing mystery, John. As is returning to what quickened our hearts once upon a time.

    • thebeautifuldue on June 2, 2012 at 12:48 pm

      Laure, thank you…I smiled when I saw your name and the bluebird.

  6. micksilva on June 2, 2012 at 5:30 am

    Glory, John. “Spanking” and “bosom.” (What in the world goes on in that head of yours?) The absolute glory of words here. I want to live in this poem, made more than flesh somehow, made word…

    • thebeautifuldue on June 2, 2012 at 12:49 pm

      Mick, my family asks that very question multiple times a day…thanks for taking the time to stop by, I mean that.

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