Thursday, September 29, 2011

Early afternoon

He wears a white robe;
he sits, eyes closed,
lips moving. I don’t
disturb him but he
speaks my name aloud.

I sit in a dark room
bare of furnishings
except for my chair;
the walls are stucco,
cool white to touch. No
windows; a light
from another room
reflects softly
through a doorway.
I have the impression
that it’s early afternoon.
I speak his name aloud.

Over at Faith Barista, Bonnie Gray is hosting a blog carnival on faith. This week’s prompt is “finding my voice.” I’m not sure if I’ve found my voice or not, but this poem is what came to mind as I considered the prompt. To see more posts submitted, please visit Faith Barista.


Louise Gallagher said...

What you have found is very powerfully expressed in this poem.

Karen Kyle Ericson said...

This is beautiful Glynn : ) I'd say you're finding your voice quite well. I love the power of "His name." And being alone, just a chair. But that's what I heard, it may have different meanings to others. That's how good this writing is. Thanks for sharing this.

Lisa notes... said...

I read it twice. That's a great sign of you finding your voice if I read something twice. ;-)

And I love the photo too. Excellent.

Rose said...


J.S. Brooks said...

Quite evocative.

nance marie said...

through a doorway
a moving
of light
upon closed eyes

Bonnie Gray said...

Glynn, you are a very interesting writer indeed. Your prose is straight, clear, witty, HILARIOUSLY colored with humor, nostalgic and lyrical.

But, your poetry... Glynn, your soul is mysterious, beautiful, moving and holds drama.

I wonder which voice is the one you enjoy writing in most. I think I know you're answer... :)

Thank you for pouring a lifetime of voice into the jams every week.

loveashh said...

stumbled on your blog while looking for an image of a dark room with a chair... the same image I saw in a dream. love this. so delicate and powerful at the same time.