Erin Wilson lives and writes in Massey, Ontario.
god stalks, as if you were hunted
By Erin Wilson
the first print,
a wolf print,
and i love it
like a father.
and then a deer,
perhaps doe,
and i love it
like a mother.
and then
the tiny paw print
two sizes my thumb,
plus claws,
and i want to
pick it up and kiss it
like a jelly bean,
or as a child
might kiss a jelly bean
just before he eats it.
and then, as i stand
in a wide open space
loving this world
so hard
my guts ache,
a chickadee plucks itself
from the rushes
and rushes my face,
his wings sounding like
the power of a bear
rushing me,
only quickened
and made smaller.
can one say one loves a chickadee
mysteriously
and precisely
as one loves god?
i try to withstand
his advancing power
but can not.
i flinch,
close my eyes,
and flinch again.
Wonderful combination of images and questioning attitude from beginning to end
Quite the visual.