Catching Fish in Church
Best talk I ever had was early morning,
somewhere in the midwest, still dreaming, notes
holding the pew benches together like warm spit.
It was not a conversation with words but the silence
made by throat and tongue alike. Nothing was said
but I folded my hands and closed my eyes, as though speaking
through the mottled lampshades of my lids, and forgot
the words and knew this was how it felt
to send a string up to the broken spine of the sky.
Like when I was five and trailing sticks through the solitude
of the water, not waiting for my life to begin
but instead plunging my hands into pregnant discs of light
belly-up on the rocks, all the world caught under the pink skin
of my suit. There in the pew I wanted to make myself small,
as I once stood in that river
and threw my stick, and watched it arc against the bodies
of leaves before coming back down.
This poem came out of two free-writes: one a church experience and the other a religious or happy childhood experience. As I wrote, I reflected on where I most feel God -- is it sitting in a church pew or outside in nature or through other people? I think as my faith continues to expand, I realize that I find God most in daily life, when I least expect, rather than in the routine of church -- though church is a very important part of my spiritual life. Faith and how we find it is an unanswerable question that can never be answered but I believe that thinking about it is a step in the right direction.
This poem is beautiful. I love the descriptive words such as "holding the pew benches together like warm spit" and the "broken spine of sky." Every time I read this work I discover a new line I absolutely love.
ReplyDeleteI can easily connect with the statement about finding God in nature. Your contrast of the church scene and the scene by the water brings to mind a continuous fight between orthodoxy and emotional discovery. Great job :)
ReplyDeleteI love how you manipulate language! It's a great experience to read this poem, forming images in your mind and then being shocked out of them by one well-placed word. One of my favorite lines is "...all the world caught under the pink skin of my suit."
ReplyDeleteThe way you merge the two experiences in this poem--along with the paradox of speaking in silence--invites the reader into your dreamy perspective. I want to keep rereading the poem, not because I don't understand it, but because the language is such a pleasure and, as Liz said above, because each time I dip back into the pool of the poem I come up with a new treasure.
ReplyDeleteMy sincerest compliments to you. I enjoy your style of poetry greatly and I think that your use of nature as a base for drawing metaphors is wonderful. It think it provides a common place that all readers can meet and work from. I really liked this and I think that you pulled the two stories together in such a way that there is a smooth flow instead of a distinctive break.
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