by Devon Balwit
“As far as he was concerned—Me cago en Dios!”
(The Island of Second Sight, Albert Vigoleis Thelen)
As far as I’m concerned, I shit on God but love God’s world,
its woods, its woad, its whirled skies. Let me kneel in my
own garden, whisper a credo of root and mud, breathe an
incense of jasmine and pine pitch, censers small boughs
that shiver in wind. My seraphim will be hummingbirds,
chittering heralds, guarding the everyday holy with whirring
wings. I will not genuflect to the eternal flame burning
in dark naves, preferring streetlights reflected in gutter water
or spangling the river as it moves stately towards the sea.
I do not need the once a week passing of the peace, preferring
the wheat smell of my dog’s paws or daily nods to strangers
passing. I would rather make my own altars from fallen
branches, nests empty except for mud and feathers, a single
stone whose shape fills my palm. If, for this, I shall be struck
down, I will thrill through my final falling, hands outspread,
all the love I can muster spilling from my bleeding human heart.
DEVON BALWIT is a writer and teacher from Portland, OR, USA. She has two chapbooks forthcoming in 2017—how the blessed travel from Maverick Duck Press and Forms Most Marvelous from dancing girl press. Her recent work has found many homes, among them: Sweet, Shantih, Fourth & Sycamore, Five 2 One, Peacock Journal, The Cincinnati Review, Red Paint Hill, Timberline Review, and more.
Photo: “Wheat Field” by Dennis Behm