Sometimes I try belief like a hat,
tilting to see how things appear
under a brim. Run my finger
along the edge of a hollow & stride
through sullied alleys
haloed by faith. Sometimes
I rest on a hard bench with the atheists.
Darwin & Marx, Simone de Beauvoir.
We consider the transcendent hand
of evolution. The siren song of paradise.
Goethe drops by to say if there’s a god,
it’s time to review the plan.
Avisaurus fly in & out of my dreams.
For every answer, a thousand questions
expand as our time on earth recedes.
I sing in the shower.
Janis & Aretha join me
in the space between words.
Aretha looks divine in her feathered hat.
Image: “Wedding Hat Feathers” by Judy Dean, licensed under CC 2.0
Jennifer Markell’s first poetry collection, Samsara (Turning Point, 2014), was named a “Must-Read Book” by the Massachusetts Book Awards in 2015. Markell received the Barbara Bradley and Firman Houghton awards from the New England Poetry Club. Her work is included in numerous journals, including Consequence, RHINO, Tinderbox, The Women's Review of Books, and the Compassion Anthology. She works as a therapist with special interest in therapeutic uses of writing.
Latest posts by Jennifer Markell (see all)
- it’s hard to get a bead on god - June 7, 2020
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Love this poem!