Poetry was my first door to the spirit.
Not religion. Not music. Not even the moon
with its silver immolations.
Though I never believed in magic
or even the accidental spark of grace,
you couldn’t say I wasn’t blessed
or the recipient of blessings.
I traced my lineage back
through the library’s darkened shelves
until I became pure image.
My heart forfeited its horses
for the measureless road.
I found twilight in my pockets.
I waited for the drip of beatitude
on my fevered tongue.
Seth Jani lives in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven CirclePress (www.sevencirclepress.com). Their work has appeared in Chiron Review, The Comstock Review, Psaltery & Lyre and Pretty Owl Poetry, among others. Their full-length collection, Night Fable, was published by FutureCycle Press in 2018. More about them and their work can be found at www.sethjani.com.
Ah, Seth. I know what you mean.