VISIONS

VISIONS

 

Visions broke through at the strangest times.

When you were buying groceries, Jesus

appeared next to you at the meat counter.

When you were at a meeting, the coffee

in your cup turned to blood. Angels visited

you in the bathroom. Things like that.

But gradually—or was it suddenly?—

the visions ceased.

 

You returned to a holy place, a place

of first loves, of moonlight and water

and stones, where trees once breathed

redemption, where fireflies flickered

immortality,  where bells rang at midnight,

and though it was still pleasant,

nothing glittered through the veil.

Indeed, the veil itself was gone.

 

In the morning, you sit on the front porch

in your green chair to drink your coffee

and listen to the birds, or

you walk in the woods for a long time

by yourself, or you spend an afternoon

cleaning the kitchen, and nothing happens

but the sunrise and the birdsong, the green leaves,

the scent of rosemary on the windowsill.

HAGIAGRAPHAMNEMENOR–a Prompt poem

PROMPT # 46

What do you call someone who has memorized the Bible?

Be that person.

~D.Weinstock

HAGIAGRAPHAMNEMENOR

 

In the beginning, I thought I’d learn

a verse from each chapter.

But, mercy! how to choose?

Everyone knows the sweet bits,

good shepherds and lilies and such,

 

But I could not resist the obscure:

 

Of the children of Zebulun,

by their generations, after their families,

by the house of their fathers,

according to the number of the names,

from twenty years old and upward,

all that were able to go forth to war; 

And Ye looked for much, and, lo, it came to little;

and when ye brought it home, I did blow upon it.

 

or the erroneous:

 

And God made the firmament, and divided the waters

which were under the firmament 

from the waters which were above the firmament: 

and it was so.  And infamously:

These are they which ye shall have in abomination

among the fowls;  they shall not be eaten, they are

an abomination; the eagle, and the ossifrage,

and the osprey. . . And the stork, the heron after her kind,

and the lapwing, and the bat. 

or embarrassing bits the songs leave out:

 

So the people shouted when the priests blew with the trumpets: 

and it came to pass, when the people heard the sound of the trumpet, 

and the people shouted with a great shout, 

that the wall fell down flat, 

so that the people went up into the city, 

every man straight before him, and they took the city. 

And they utterly destroyed all that was in the city, 

both man and woman, young and old, 

and ox, and sheep, and ass, with the edge of the sword.

 

Choosing has never been my forté.

 

Your favorite song?—food?—

movie?—lover? —string quartet?

 

So many, and different reasons.

It’s always simpler to do it all.