Skip to content

Log Out

×

Poetry

Whispers, Scrolls
Donatello, Prophet with Scroll

Blessed be the apraxic herald,
the battered handle of heaven’s rasp.
Afflicted physician, anointed thistle.
Tattered tent pitched amidst the palaces.
For he who sees will see the nations
float like chaff above a shepherd’s cookfire;
he who hears will flee wild dogs and whispers
and wake to the creak of the potter’s wheel.
Yet his hands will gather the fallen clay
and unseal the scrolls stretching to Sheol,
where it is written: in your abandonment
you are beloved; in exile you are saved.

 

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

[Today, having swigged a half-liter]

By

Dimitri Psurtsev

Icon of an Unknown Saint

By

Cameron Alexander Lawrence

Tuesday: Rhubarb, Lattice Crust

By

Becca J.R. Lachman

To My Son Yacine

By

Abdellatif Laâbi

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

* indicates required