About This Image:
Surprise Arch
(a poem by Alisa Bolander)
Within the ancient rough-hewn room
Cave of Cliffs—and an Arch—
the Expected Place, no Surprise,
Nothing grows of Physical Matter
but of Spirit.
Cradled between the rising walls, blocking
the ever-parched Sun
A shelter provides rock, hard and cool.
Sand-paper sound on boots, on hands,
And an always-ready Breeze hollows the shout
of the Word Outside muted, softened,
Lifting hairs on arms, the gentle brushing
Easing Breath, as atmospheric pressure
on the Shoreline.
Besides this breeze, alive—
Persists the Barren Stone.
Canteen water, warm and metallic,
dripping slightly,
Splashes upward, outward—Expelled Away
from the unreceiving Rock of Earth.
There is no use of Living Water
in the Desert Cavern.
Copyright © 2008 Alisa Bolander
Quoted with permission. First published on Bristlecone Pine.
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