by Jenna K Funkhouser
I.
this is the night
we walk backwards
into blindness
into silence
this is the daybreak
we bear unrecognized
hosannas
on our burning tongues.
II.
it is walking
into a grave
within oneself
entering
this cavern within
the ribs
it is the shouting
of men gone mad
with the world
the tearing
of something
irrevocable.
III.
everyday
he said
the world was given the bitter cup
of its sorrows and pain
and everyday
mankind would dash the cup
to the sordid ground
in rebellion.
and within the man
there grew a ravenous thirst
for the clear, sweet cordial
of independence.
and within the cup
was the wine of love
waiting for someone
to drink it.
IV.
oh my children,
love the world –
love the bright glad world
and the world of all
its sorrows.
do not be afraid.
V.
and then there came
the night when love
was an earthen basin
when the wild, dark
tremors of the world
reached out like roots
into eternity.
someone
drinks the cup.
the late dusk
trembles
and blooms.
VI.
you must let yourself
be pierced
to be healed
you must accept
the lancing of
this universal wound.
stay so close
to the suffering
that it transfigures you.
watch the holy one
open wide his body
like a flame
and cauterize our dying
by his own.
VII.
love, he said
love even
in your hopelessness.
for underneath the shroud
of shamed earth
life has found its way
into all the cracks and corners
of this darkness
filled them
with the sleeping bulbs
of resurrection.
even the abyss
will bloom and sing.
Jenna K Funkhouser is a poet and artist living in Portland, Oregon. Her poetry has recently been published by Geez Magazine, the Saint Katherine Review, and As It Ought To Be, among others; her first book of poetry, Pilgrims I Have Been, was released in October 2020.