Psalm of a secular human
by Skinner Matthews
After you were gone, I found myself
contemplating our backyard. Peonies
wilting above strangleholds of thicket
weeds, the broken backbones of lupine
scythed into bales of mottled hay
a typical landscape in the state of
New Jersey. The grasses, black bent
and sweet, fray in the light, rally
in the penumbra. Without answer
from the three-person’d God*
why must I serve watch to these
small acts of living? Withering
lilacs in hollowed skulls, waves
resuscitating the overdoses
of too much love, the eaten heads
of praying mantises disembodied
from their limbs despite their prayer
and vigilance. These children no one
can save from what death truly is;
the forest no longer swollen
with chanterelles, no raptures
no pangs untended and suffering.
No names, no emptiness, no longer
anything wind-whipped by the rain.
White cloud upon white cloud wave
goodbye to a sky that is no more.
The broken words tremble
in our throats, manna is in the ashes
the rickshaws are made of bones
monuments the color of glass
the hewn road is not mysterious.
Songbirds sing, together or alone
achingly pure in the wisteria.
*John Donne – Holy Sonnet: Batter My Heart
Skinner Matthews is a poet living and writing in Bluffton SC. He writes for spiritual enlightenment, with an informed knowledge of the working class. He hopes his poetry brings light to the many dark places that exist like landmines in the streets, neighborhoods, and family households of the working class. He has been published in Autumn Sky Poetry, Livina Press, Rising Phoenix Review, and future publications in Ekstasis Magazine, As Surely as the Sun Journal, Amethyst Review, Stray Branch Literary Journal, and the Sea Change Anthology [8th Edition].
