At night,
water is light.
At noon,
light becomes stone.
Everything that is made
is light, is shade.
Abroad in the fields, we bathe
in light, drink light, breathe
light with our mouths. Are still.
Light has entered the hill;
the sands
hold light in their hands.
~
O, Day!
We play a sculpting game:
take turns,
add clay
and take away,
caress and punch
until the night
when aproned
night-shift sculptors
work in the dark.
~
Dare imagine
exploring vast space in a
tiny, tender spaceship!
Dare seek knowledge
you are not ready to know!
Do extraterrestrial robots
control us until we mature?
We long to be wise and to venture
beyond our own limits, to grow,
to deserve uncharted space.
Certain domains of words take aim at strangers –
to accuse, assault, open fire
on persons denounced, held to blame
Labels can bar the delicate image imprinted
behind every eye –
unbroken, unique –
secured in the soul’s secret lining
Etude for Belonging: Poems for Practicing Courage and Hope
by Bethany Lee
reviewed by Lisa Graham McMinn
Curiosity sent me to the dictionary to look up “etude” before opening this poetry collection.
