There must be a way to listen
By Laurie Klein
like a small body of water,
reflective face, upturned: benign,
an entity of acceptance.
Water embraces the sunken. The near-dying
as well as the thriving stir, like plants
practicing grace as they lean on the current.
Let me be a haven, where shared sediments
settle. Where buoyancy reasserts itself.
Where you will beckon the weathered vessel,
and I will coax the reluctant toe.
We'll soften the chipped margins of shells,
castoffs, the chronically stony. Encompassed,
eased, the survivor rises
the way a trout breaks from silence, to surface,
old hooks and lines ingrown, jaws half-trussed—
wounds revealed, by one seeking a witness.
What was it the risen one said? Hark.
Flow and do likewise.
Source: https://wipfandstock.com/9798385208067/house-of-49-doors/
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