Tuesday, September 4, 2012


I have a rosary made of birds.
I have an ache made of your absence.

When I am praying, the birds stay with me. Stars replace them.
This is my arrangement with the sky at sunset.

Sometimes passing trucks sing the street; other times footsteps.
Sometimes God laughs; other times She is silent.

Holding birds in one's hands is holy.
My hands know your name, and the braille of my body in its longing.

I always say the same prayer, to be nearer to you.
I have a rosary made of birds.


hedgewitch said...

A sigh of a poem, drifting like a leaf down on the soil that completes its life cycle..or perhaps, a feather, just...fallen..when I read your love poems, no matter how parched I may be, I feel the well is bottomless.

Anonymous said...

A rosary made of birds would be very hard to hold onto; it would always be trying to fly away---fighting against being held. And yet, they are still for you. You are some kind of magic, girl.

I love this: "My hands know your name, and the braille of my body in its longing."

Sioux said...

I adore the phrase (and hate you because of its creation ;) "the braille of my body."

Wouldn't the world be a wonderful place if each one of us had someone writing VOLUMES of love poems like this about us?

Daryl said...

like petals falling from end of the season flowers ... soft

TexWisGirl said...

i draw with pencil - so do you. :)

Marion said...

Lovely, melancholy, amazing poem, Shay. xo

Buddah Moskowitz said...

It was all beautifully abstract until:

"My hands know your name, and the braille of my body in its longing."

Then it came alive! My favorite flavor: bittersweet!

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is so filled with longing and hopefulness and cherishing.. leaves one with quite an ache in the chest.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

This one pierced my heart with the longing I did not know I had, until I read your poem. Wowzers. So beautiful.

HermanTurnip said...

"I have a rosary made of birds"

This is both a disturbing and enchanting line. Nice job threading that needle!

Isadora Gruye said...

Shay, you write out the ache like no one's business: here you convey that longing and absence of solace through a series of images each unique and heartbreaking. From the rosary made of birds (which summoned a feel of before rome bone worship) to trucks singing the street. I also love the concept of the braille of the body, the bumps and formations we know with hot palms and eyes closed. Tremendous work, viva la

Mama Zen said...

TexWisGirl is right; this is like a pencil sketch, light, delicate, and with just the perfect shadows. This took my breath away.

Anonymous said...

You in the mood to play? Just posted three new word lists today:


Anonymous said...

"a rosary made of birds"


love the song, too.