Proofs

*from One With Willows, copyright 2019 by Joan Myles*

Past the grip of fisted darkness

We have come again, again.

Past an empty-pantry starkness

We have come.

Past the angry kick of ceilings,

We have come again, again.

Past sagging psalms and ragged feelings

We have come.

Past the oven’s gaping,

Twisted sense of pain-escaping

Words like parachutes come falling

Into consciousness, recalling

Former triumphs of the spirit—

Life embraces, draws us near It,

Declares us in Its Love decree,

Je suis, I am, je suis.