Write What You Do Not Know

Begin with questions:
Do jellyfish dream?
Do rocks think?
Is God truly jealous?
Have I a guardian angel?

Yes, jellyfish dream of kraken,
of power, of scuttling ships,
of mastery and the mystery
of shuttling from shining surface
to alluring but disruptive depths.

Stones might be slow angels.
Their thoughts, in ponderous
geological time, encompass starlight,
persimmons, wind, erosion, creation,
and the molten heat at earth’s core.

All I know is the finger that points
to the moon, not the celestial object itself.
If that finger wavers, the moon is not less
the moon. God knows our sterling intent,
our stumbling failures, and has mercy on all.

As a child, I was an angry atheist
who found comfort in subtle shifting light,
not a countenance and sheltering wings.
Now cupped in my palm a polished bit
of rainbow obsidian. It suffices.

J.M.R. Harrison

J.M.R. Harrison has created and led workshops in fear, faith, poetry, play, and creativity. She studied poetry at the independent Writers’ Center in Bethesda MD for over a dozen years and is a 2016 graduate from the low residency MFA program of Spalding University in Louisville KY. Her poems have been published in Antietam Review, Spillway Magazine, Pensive Journal and featured in Fluent Magazine and The Good Newspaper.

White Swan and Cherries
Autumn This Year