by Jenna K. Funkhouser
How I wander through these days, stranger to my own making
treading on thin spaces, and the cracks expand across the distance to where You live.
A wind blows and it whispers Only words of you. A crow settles in the trees outside the window and calls Your name.
You call us, and we hunger. You fill us, yet we cannot get enough of You.
You, there beside us in our kneeling prayer, claiming us and yet ascending in Your loving higher until we are compelled to bow and love You so our hearts may burst while knowing we are Yours and shall be in Your life and life is Real and sharp among our ribs.
I watched the crow for days before I caught the secret of your love affair
before I saw he only glanced towards where You stood rejoicing in his ebony creation.
And I knew my heart would burn again towards You
I knew that I would wander, and return again, would offer up this world again and over again
and always it would be to You.
You will be the song I hum in the dark, forgetting Who it is I sing of
You will be the One watching, giving planting, birthing always a lopsided love affair
delighting in the slow ripening of my resurrection
calling my name in the wind and the wilding sky.
Jenna K Funkhouser is a writer and artist living in Portland, Oregon. Her poetry has recently been published by the Ekphrastic Review, Impspired, and Vita Poetica, among others. In her spare time, she explores the world of mosaic and textile design.
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