karoline strickland
A golden world was given me
and I lost it somewhere – I’m not sure where
A golden world was given me
and I spoiled it with anxious hands
A golden world was given me
and I ran too fast to see
A golden world was given me
and I sulked that it was not more
A golden world was given me
and I wept and turned my back
A golden world was given me
and I dared not touch it once
A golden world was given me
and I knelt far off and gazed
A golden world was given me
and I knew it was
not
Mine.
Wrapped in my womb and under my heart I took you outside tonight
to let the stars shine on you.
I breathed green night air and I stepped on green wings
and I let the stars shine on you.
I walked past the horn of a crescent moon and the sharp blue eyes of the sky
to let the stars shine on you.
I wondered your name and I strained my heart –
– to hear –
– perhaps –
your newmade soul –
and I let the stars shine on you.
“God forbid!” cried Job – “You treat your enemies like this –
The way You treat Your friends!”
The monsters under the bed are real.
That is the secret,
dear heart,
that we are keeping from you.
Did you know
that you are a God picture, walking?
That she is too? –
That he is too? –
but nothing else on this wide earth?
Today I’m interrupting my usual post schedule (though I’ll still keep it short!) to share that I will be joining Ruminate Magazine’s 50 Hours event, and creating live on Facebook!
During the week of February 25, visual artists, poets, and short prose writers will be creating spontaneous art in 10 minute segments. Sign up and pick a topic, an image, a feeling, a memory, and have an original art piece made just for you (to keep).
This is a wonderful and exciting way to share in the making, giving, and receiving of art!
I’ll be writing on February 27, 7 pm EST. Read more here and purchase a ticket!
Today I saw bare trees
like cups
opened to the sky.
I found where my house fits under the sky tonight.
Just under the shoulder of Taurus,
A little east of Cassiopeia’s lap,
A little west of the charioteer.
The daring of God –
to design a sunset in lumps of violet
mud.
I’ve mapped my body, just like you,
I’ve settled where my thoughts are (in my brain, of course).
But when I walk alone my thoughts appear, arise, and open with my footfalls
as if that’s where they wait for me,
underneath
collected
on the soles of my feet.
Made Along The Way 