Someone spoke to me last night,
told me the truth. Just a few words,
but I recognized it.
I knew I should make myself get up,
write it down, but it was late,
and I was exhausted from working
all day in the garden, moving rocks.
Now, I remember only the flavor —
not like food, sweet or sharp.
More like a fine powder, like dust.
And I wasn’t elated or frightened,
but simply rapt, aware.
That’s how it is sometimes —
God comes to your window,
all bright light and black wings,
and you’re just too tired to open it.
1994
Regular
Contemporary
2025
Faith & Hope
Poems of the Everyday
Imagery
visually descriptive or figurative language, especially in a literary work
Sensory Detail
words used to invoke the five senses (vision, hearing, taste, touch, smell)
Simile
a comparison between two unlike things using the words “like” or “as”