Religion
       

As morning bees spring brightly,
I watch the day
unwind from the coil of night.

I step around a web of threads
woven into the shape of an eye,
open and glistening.

The grass carries the burden
of my footprints the same way
my skin knows touch.

I am as close to love as I allow
myself to be. My softest whispers
turn it like a wheel.

I can't rid myself
of this clumsy body, this needy skin,
so I sink my toes in dirt. I run in rain.

I breathe the scent of honeysuckle
and sun on a rock like a salamander,
lazy and blinking.

I don't know which words to pray,

but I can cup a firefly in my hand
and watch it crawl to my fingertip
before it lifts its light to the swirling dark.

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Copyright © 2019 Sandy Coomer All rights reserved
from Available Light
Iris Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission