Swirling Orb


‘God’s voice don’t get you too far’

what they say at and below the bar,

nourishing our suckling wide-eyed star

that should awake to one more day

if the canyon bends to what we prayed

despite what the river carved and God hath made:

An identity itself regardless the matrix

     <Al Green always the preacher

          and Lou Reed the rhyme judge>

their altar right despite what the lay picks,

     good bad happy sad creature

          with a hip wife and a-la-mode drugs.

Count on our soul sisters to give us the tools

and chalky surroundings to break all the rules,

Cheers! Tintinnabulum of Mexican jewels.

Questionable origins of a Jesus on a toast,

ama tu ritmo but you shouldn’t need to boast,

big as you get, grande the holy ghost.

Mind the pleasantries passed into a dream,

these overgrown paths are not what they seem

when you’ve been wanted for a vesperal sunbeam

like a few other crepuscular people

who accomplished the day and now can be full

becoming sky as St. Augustine’s equal.

Long sentences at dusk finally melt,

chains will drop from the raw hands that dealt,

the game will break open and spirit be felt.

Friends will desert as the light burns their skin

hoping to outrun the exposing of sin

and their long-lost unrequited conviction.

They left you because they felt they were better than you.  Much like people abandon their only maker for the empty promises of a marble world.  Not because you weren’t there for their housewarmings and baby births and Friday cocktail hours.  You can be selfish and that is a human quality, not a malignant character defect to determine your whole identity.  You are no more or less selfish than they.  But you must know that you are stronger in spirit, so forgive them for succumbing to those vacuumy promises.  And they are stronger in flesh.

This is what both heart-break and branching looks like.

The Sabbath honored and a Sunday mountain hike.

Letting men go and catching a pike.

The dark face of empty space,

a saintly star, faint and far,

a swirling orb: all like our Lord.


© 2013, Amaya Engleking



  1. The Existential Baker · October 10, 2016

    fantastic! love the tempo changes

    • Gospel Isosceles · October 11, 2016

      That’s one of the best qualities of modern verse; that we can express so much in altering rhythm and tempo, not being suppressed by a certain form we have to obey.

  2. canach · October 14, 2016

    I don’t understand half of what you write in this free verse, but I think that I like it.

  3. Sudden Denouement · June 15, 2017

    Amaya has a sunning poetic vision. One of my favorite writers.

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