Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Chapter 22 part 2 - Leesie's poem
Hey my sweet CAYMAN SUMMER travelers! Look I'm early. I'm doing a live chat tonight on Twitter, so I need to download tweetdeck and get set up. You're all invited. A group of authors from DEAR TEEN ME are going to be talking about the project at #yalitchat from 9-11 PM EST. Hope to see you all there. I'm supposed to tweet to my teen self. Maybe I'll snag a vote or two for SING ME TO SLEEP's Goodread's campaign.
As always, I look forward to your reaction. I'm not sure if these two poems work together. Still some rough edges to blend to make it flow. This finishes Chapter 22. Next scene will be in the car with Michael driving home.
LEESIE’S MOST PRIVATE CHAPBOOK
POEM #??, SHE COMES TO ME 2
Crying on Michael’s chest
the wall I built to keep out the light,
and in cleansing white glory
She comes to me,
a pure and shining presence,
knocking on my soul.
My grandmother smiles on my heart.
Pres. X’s voice filters throough
the rapture I’m encased in.
“Do you know your
very worst sin?”
reveling in perfection
I sit back from Michael,
wrap my arms around my chest
so I don’t fracture into millions
of pieces at the exquisite force
so intense, so unearned, so blessed.
Along with my grandmother
blooming in my heart,
there’s whisperings of something
that can only be Phil.
I’m sorry, Leesie. I love you.
I bow my head and whisper,
Michael rubs my back.
“Are you all right, babe?”
spilling joy that
embraces my sorrow
Tears flow like water pounding
from a spout, splashing, gurgling
filling a baptismal font like the one
I stood in at eight with my father’s
hands full of power to cleanse me.
Pres. X’s voice extends an iron rod
to rescue me from endless wanderings
in a faceless field of full of the lost.
“Your worst sin, Sis. Hunt, was to believe
your Savior has power to save everyone—
I grasp Michael’s hand and meet the man’s gaze.
“I testify to you,”—his words soft but strong,
pierce my stubborn, stone heart,
“He loves every vile murderer in every
penitentiary and somehow, someday
in the great Eternal realm, they will all
find their own salvation through Him.”
I rest my head against Michael’s cheek.
He strokes my face and whispers, “Listen
to him, Leesie. Listen. You need this.”
I watch Pres. X’s mouth, studying every word
it creates. “He waits with open arms,
spread wide to welcome you home
with love and forgiveness if you will
Emotion overtakes me again.
I sob with my head down on the desk—
tears the only offering I have left to give.