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Image by Todd Aarnes

Getting Close to God

Before sight and sound
and the naming of things,
their measures;

before light and dark;
the face on the deep; the waters:
there was silence.

Not the same as the moment
jagged after
of summer lightning,

or a rock face tumbling
from winter ice,
the click of a gate latch.

Silence is where everything starts.
It’s two men in a boat, mist-early
on a lake. Surrounding them:

water sky-dark and still. In time
early light will thread from the trees.
For now, cold damp nests in their collars,

and the smell of black coffee
in dented thermos cups
sits on the bench between them.

Begin with silence.
Wait for light,
as when praying.

Soldier’s Prayer

I want a god
carries a rucksack
sees in the dark
       can forgive me
       what I cannot

Trust Rust

If you can’t trust the day,
why believe the night?

If you can’t trust the food,
what will you eat?

If you can’t trust your school,
why instead the news?

If you can’t trust your eyes,
can you trust what pours into your ears?

If you can’t trust the path,
why are you on a sideroad?

If you can’t trust your faith,
how did you get here?

If you can’t trust,
who will follow you?

John Hicks is a New Mexico poet. He has been published by:  I-70 Review, First Literary Review – East, Blue Nib, Verse-Virtual, Shark Reef, Valparaiso Poetry Review, and others. He’s working on his first book in the thin air of the southern Rockies.

1 Comment

  1. Anonymous

    John remains a treasured friend since we met during his St. Louis years. How fortunate I am to call this magnificent poet my friend.


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