Selah After black clouds swirled in the sky, and rain made a lake of the driveway, the early evening turned so quiet I could hear suds dissolving in the sink from the sponge I just squeezed out, bubbles popping, draining away. And I dropped so easily into myself like a rock sinking through clear water, the scribe writing the story of my life must have decided to insert the word, selah, that appears over and over in the Psalms, and which we can only guess is an invitation to the reader: Pause here in the text and leave room between this breath and the next for the sound of that still, small voice rising up in you.
James Crews is the author of four collections of poetry, The Book of What Stays, Telling My Father, Bluebird, and Every Waking Moment. He is also the editor of two anthologies: Healing the Divide: Poems of Kindness and Connection and How to Love the World: Poems of Gratitude and Hope. jamescrews.net
