POETRY ON THE SUBJECT OF SLEEPERS ‘WAKE
Afterlight
To sail into a thunderstorm is not so
commonplace: to have your body split in two,
to feel the electric fissures become you
and learn the cracks you navigate
in your upside-down way.
Your pulsating heart, your pulsating brain—
both opened to calamity. Some might call
this chaos pain, but the good rain
poured in and flooded me.
And though I ached and rocked like those tiny
boats at sea, there were seeds planted deep
within me—hibiscus and white lily—
waiting for the tempest winds to break
and wake me from the dark
with His afterlight—
to bloom.
This Gift Card has Already been Redeemed
Another day I sag
into from sleep
drag a self around
the leash-length
wonder whether I should
or how, wonder what now.
But we haven’t,
whole-hearted,
not as ourselves.
So it goes. After it
by which I mean the light
I’ll rest—another fit—
Blanketed in blamelessness. Matins No.554
by Christina Schempf
Leap into the day, my love!
Find your vigor.
paddle strongly.
run steadily!
Your rest will come when
you are weary.
But shake off the sleep
and join the living throng.
the groundhog doing her work.
the turtle hers.
We must love the world
with all the strength we can muster.
with all the courage we can carry.
with all the hope we can bear.
Begin the work of the day, beloved.
joy awaits.
