Sunday Morning Prayer
by Ken Meisel
If time is eternal in Heaven, I’d rather be temporary
& in your arms
as the fire burns in the fireplace & the ice-rain falls
covering the entire avenue in ice-white pebbles.
& if love
is a measurement of how we’ve surrendered to mystery,
be a fisherman in a bog, slogging through it
for another pearl
so that I can again offer it to you.
& if spirit is an almond orchard where the flower blossoms
are the dropped white lace
of the seven angels of the apocalypse leaving
I’d rather be lost in all that, than to be at another church,
hearing again why it is we’ve sinned
by laying down together
on a bed of white almond blossoms, before marriage.
& if rapture is just spirit
stretching itself in yoga ritual so as to feel itself alive
in a physical body,
I’d rather lay here in it,
thanking the sweet aromatic air
for all my faithful fingers holding precisely & clearly
all your writhing incredible life
& if you are all I have to love today,
you, double movement
of consent, you, floral life of delight,
then I’ll take that roadway you offer,
Ken Meisel is a poet and psychotherapist, a 2012 Kresge Arts Literary Fellow, a Pushcart Prize nominee and the author of eight books of poetry. His most recent books are: Our Common Souls: New & Selected Poems of Detroit (Blue Horse Press: 2020) and Mortal Lullabies (FutureCycle Press: 2018). Meisel has recent work in Concho River Review, I-70 Review, San Pedro River Review, The Wayfarer and Rabid Oak.