Flush with Joy
after “Like the Magic Glow of a Paradise,” by Clementina Suarez
I have come forth with the young light,
breaking over the waters of the Enoree,
a child of the Daystar.
My poor clay body,
dug from the river,
suddenly the roundness
of flesh.
Eyes are pieces of stained glass,
shattered into a thousand shards
when I was made.
Behold beauty, I tell them.
A throat that sings arias
in crimson, emerald, amber.
Hands that can grasp;
I reach for the Holy One
and pluck a muscadine
from its vagrant vine.
A woman am I,
with hips from which
flow the world,
powerful and ready
for the shattering collide
with the one not yet found.
Legs, ready for the walking,
feet, for the stony road,
to keep moving beyond myself
into the dust of the garden,
where I return again and again—
and again and again
I am raised,
until finally I am broken by my Maker,
and scattered as nourishment for the birds of song.
Rising on wing, I slip earthly bonds into the silvering air,
into the antediluvian, colorless ether, where, flush with joy,
I touch the shimmering face of my Beloved.
.
Melissa Chappell is an author living in rural South Carolina on land passed down through her family for over 120 years. She loves to walk in the woods, and being musically inclined, plays an 8 course Renaissance lute. She shares her life with her family and two miniature schnauzers.
Amethyst Review 