self-examination

This lent I examine my sins.

I am profoundly jealous of people who write poetry. 

I love to read it;
to eat the fruit of those who plant words.

Once, I tried
to write such things,
but ended up like
Peter, rethinking baptism.
(do I journey as the crow flies
as the cock crows?)

listening for sounds of water, laying on my bed
and he is gone (or was it I who fled?)
thinking on the rain that falls outside.
Suddenly again I am a rock upon the river
and know in time, his washing-over-me
will shape and carve this stone.
Looking up from underneath
it seems to me transluscent now.
through it
I can see the sky
and almost touch
the heavens.

Comments

[Rachel]

Don't be jealous - just write it. It's all just a lot of BS disguised by pretty phrasing. It's just how you feel - magnified, amplified and exacerbated into something readable.