The All-Miracle Church of Earth

 In our curve of time the framework of Love

is still being dreamt open –

Love seeps and strokes into the wounds of the spirit

like silk blessing the first leaf born of the first bud,

unrolled atop the first root, enshrined from the first Source.

 

Beloved ones precious as air lace our seconds and days together,

a vivid shawl sewn in the cadence of our kaleidoscope souls.

 

The slow streams preach their smooth water-truths,

the snow is its refrain: “Shhh love now, shhh love often”

they whisper to us like salamanders in the shape-shift moments.

 

Love weaves through the gills of our being

alive together on this All-Miracle Church of Earth,

of everything hallowed, brokenly true,

of all things Yes, igniting us while capturing fallen sparks

chimed from the ecstatic tongues of stars.

  

 J. Pratt-Walter, © 2021

Water Has No Secrets NaPoWriMo #13

Water has no secrets.

Fish, stones, the wide winds –

it shares with them equally.


I have this feeling near water

like I can say anything

and it won’t judge.


As I touched ripples across water’s skin,

it tasted me and found me

still a little green

like a banana picked too early.


Water has a way of knowing too much.

Not only can it keep no secrets –


it told all mine to the fish and stones

and the licking winds


so now the creek, the river

and the entire Pacific Ocean

know how impossibly long and durably

I have loved you.


JPW , NaPoWriMo  4/13/2020