Skip to content

Log Out

×

Poetry

I was blinded by grace,
A prey torn from its shadow,
Entwined only to unravel.

Alive in a dead calm,
I was fire from which
Air is withheld,

A charged element.
An illegible signature,
I was that which

Otherwise serves to conceal.
An inaccessible room.
A sky divided by lightning.

 

 

Image depends on its subscribers and supporters. Join the conversation and make a contribution today.

+ Click here to make a donation.

+ Click here to subscribe to Image.


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

Related Poetry

The Cartographer of Disaster

By

Kathleen L. Housley

Sheltering in Place

By

Lisa Dordal

Moses on the Well

By

Patty Seyburn

Pinckney Street

By

Fred Marchant

Receive ImageUpdate, our free weekly newsletter featuring the best from Image and the world of arts & faith

* indicates required