Turbulent Times – a poem by Jennifer Clark

Turbulent Times
 
God takes up lots of space on the plane,
insists on having the window seat.
I slide over to make room.
 
Moments before unrestrained objects
begin to shift, the pilot announces
we are heading into turbulence.
 
I reach over to hold God’s hand
but God is busy, conducting
a symphony of birds drunk on sky.
 
If my faith were pushier,
I’d brush my fingertips
against the hem of God’s cloak.
 
Instead, I sulk and get dizzy
watching God out of the corner
of my eye devouring pretzels.
 
Will I give up this easily? Why not
interrupt and say something? Then
the plane pitches and yaws,
 
an orange rolls down the aisle.
Still busy with birds, God looks
unperturbed and yawns.
 
I see a tree inside God’s mouth
and hanging from a branch, a swing.
It would be brazen to say it was waiting
for me, but it was.

Jennifer Clark is the author of a children’s book and three full-length poetry collections, most recently A Beginner’s Guide to Heaven (Unsolicited Press). She has a hybrid collection, Kissing the World Goodbye, forthcoming from Unsolicited Press in 2022. She lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan. Her website is jenniferclarkkzoo.com.

Leave a Comment