Poetry

Trans-figured

I

In the lake’s stirrings,

the night light reflects

a hundred electric eels

and a school of moon fish

dispersing to the shore.

II

And so it was determined by mirrors,

and of course, science,

that the mountain peaks

are earth’s roots

and the ocean depths

are our endless heavens.

III

Never would I swear to you

that a tree is just a tree.

No, every last one is its own burning bush,

each figured in its shape;

a bell

which rings and tells

in dripping limbs,

in clambering roots,

and hollowed stumps,

one same sworn song,

reverberating, what’s already

done.

Amanda Rachelle Geers

Woodinville, Washington

 

 

 

Gazing

I gaze upon this land
and I know you made it
your hands like an artist’s brush
painting landscapes with a lover’s touch.
The beauty of this world overshadows the ugliness
sometimes.
I gaze upon your people
and see the ones who hate you
who spit on your name.
I weep for them
because no matter what I say
I can not make them see the light
and that means they will never know you.
You died for them
and yet they ignore it.
I gaze upon your followers
and see a people who love you
a people I am proud to be a part of.
I see an army
marching against your enemy.
Lord keep us strong.
I gaze upon this world you created in just seven days
even though there is little hope for it.
I try to stay strong
even though the weight is sometimes too much to bear.
I just think of how you bore the weight of the cross
selflessly.
It makes it a little easier to carry my own.

-Chris Alkire (Newport, WA)

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