When I Cast Away
When I cast away your great
sparrow's wings, which had been wrapped
around and above me – cool shadow from the
burning lights – I did not realize it right away.
I saw a glow between your wings and wanted
to eat them. Neon, LED, soft IKEA candles.
Oh, how they burned the lining of my stomach
I thought I had reached out just an arm
to grab for them, but I found myself,
yesterday, in a sea of radiation.
Have you ever tried to bask your face in
the beam of a naked ceiling light?
It doesn’t have quite the same effect as –
That time you were sitting with
your toes in the ocean, right hand
in the curled locks of your canine's back,
face to the sky – you had to close
your eyes, it was so bright.
I cast off your great sparrows wings
because I saw lights behind your shadow
I wanted to explore. I forgot
to bring a feather with me,
to brush my acid burns,
to shield my crooked heart,
to remind me what love
was supposed to taste like.
A night of neon lights is only
thrilling when you know for sure
that day is coming.
Be patient with me,
I’m still here
looking again for
Your unfailing love.
Lord, as we explore all facets of life and broaden our horizons with new contexts and new people, keep us close to your heart so that we do not forget to live with and through the kind of love you call for. Your love is everlasting, unfailing – mountain – ocean – sky. Let us experience the fullness of the world in all its wholeness and brokenness, but leave us with your feathers, and let not your wings be far away. Amen.
Rachel Runesson