I Return to the Church
Spoons of love and
grace, mushy with mercy,
like oatmeal in a bowl
hushes my mouth into
sugary sweet solemnity.
A neophyte’s reverence.
Holiness. Me. God’s witness
recipient.
A finger to make a cross
across my lips.
And is this love?
Oh yes, this is love
when I come, returned from
the world from walking through
hells, my hungry years.
Hunger that is called youth
looking for rainbows, promised
lands, edens, and paradises.
Only to find it all
that I left behind, that
I could not see like Hagar.
And I did not
even know the word,
desert.
Notes:
From A Train Called Judah (Eden Press, 1998). Reproduced with permission of Nina Rodgers Gordon.
This poem is part of the portfolio “Carolyn Marie Rodgers: What Beauty We Now Have” from the October 2022 issue.
Source:
Poetry
(October 2022)
