Poetry Pick

Quiet Day of Prayer by April Bulmer Ontario, Canada

Imagine, God is mute, but His hand signs the shape of fruit. His wrist grounds Him like a root. Clouds shift, too, like ghost's fists before rain. Tales of blood and devils. Illness and pain. Menses and cotton. Crutches and canes. River is quiet, too, and sea. Though, fish arch like God. Turned and troubled. The water a brew. Our dumb tongues, broken tools. The planet breathes like lungs. Listens among the blue for the language of love, that silent creed.

1st place winner, Cambridge Writers Collective 2008 Poetry Contest

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