A Look In the Great Mirror

I listen to Marie Howe speak of writing poetry
Try to imagine what I could say about this life
How I read the Bible as a child loving the wild
Stories of the old book, Deborah riding her horse
To battle, Easter seducing a king, a lone woman
Putting a nail through the temples of an enemy
And I there listening as  a pre-liberation girl child
Now open my grown
Girl butter places softened by the endless
Love talk you make with me so foreign to the preachers
Who used the New Testament to drone on about
How to live and go to hades,  missing the stories of lost sheep
And weeping whores who pulled water from
The deepest wells because they were there
And thirsty. it is for some small minutes of mercy
Those glimpses of your reflection in my mirror
That I live a story too beautiful for words
 
http://www.npr.org/2011/10/20/141502211/poet-marie-howe-on-what-the-living-do-after-loss
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