Slave (The Calling of Manumit)

One lung full while the other

constricts,                      

shrivels,

crushed beneath this weight

I can’t think, can’t  resist,

weakened

by the purchase of screws

I held myself down for

and bled my tears

listening to the

sweet sound

of mourning doves.

I have forgotten You

and I confess

sometimes I think You are gone,

abandoned me

for greener fields

of those more faithful.

But You say I am Your temple—

chained as I am to memory,

so please keep holding out keys

to this puzzle of wings

I am putting together

to fly away from ghostly apparitions

that visit me in my dreams.

They kiss me on the forehead

and keep me from the tiny living temples

that matter at all to me.

Serpent of haunting,

you’ve bitten, but you are crushed,

and I, while breathing in a whisper from the moon

through windows

streaming enlightened threads

in reflection of daylight,

in the back of my mind

I hear it

in each pump of blood

from my heart

I know

I know

I was meant to be free.

 

Copyright 2012 Jennifer Wagner

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