Menu

The river heaved our boat on its back.
I loved how the narrowness of my life
opened into that prairie of waves, big sky.

One evening we saw the sun’s last rays
lift an island from the water; rock and pines
floated mid-air, unreachable mirage hanging

like a painting of Saint John on Patmos dreaming
his Revelation: horsemen and scorpion warriors,
sulphurous clouds blackening the skies,

the end of human history revealed—
the river of the water of life flowing down to us
from that place of no more weeping, no tears.


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Access one piece of artwork every month for free! To experience the full archive, log in or subscribe.

Related Poetry

a plaster house with a yellow painted wooden door sits behind a tree with draping green foliage. the image is light and warm.

The Aging María

By

Judith Ortiz Cofer

The Ritz

By

Michael Ryan

The Taste of Eden

By

Valerie Wohlfeld

New Year, Good Work

By

John Terpstra

Pin It on Pinterest