light & fire 2 Chron.3.8 do not fear death as death— long watery arms, placid Prussian blue—will touch your {lightbody} touch a password to {lightcube} —20 by 20 by 20—dis- integrating inside light & fire, beside other lightbodies, figures in divine presence singing ballads of transposition —clay to sinew to sanctuary—how bodies of {fleshwater} found each {other} assuaged fear of annihilation & rebirth. death brushes the implacable vision of becoming, the falling sparrow dreams—breaking shell, breaking wing in her fall—the {lightfix} of her still orbs—full tilt to sun— unblinking under the greater orange orb, under what would {otherwise} blind, what would burn.
Kathryn Knight Sonntag is the author of the poetry collection The Tree at the Center (BCC Press, 2019). She has recent and forthcoming poems in Psaltery & Lyre, Abstract Magazine, The Curator, and the anthology Blossom as the Cliffrose (Torrey House Press, 2021). She works as a landscape architect in Salt Lake City, Utah. www.kathrynknightsonntag.com