Swept Away – a poem by Cynthia Pitman

Swept Away

Just a brush of a broom
on the front porch floor,
but I heard sacred psalms — 
the whispers of Angels warning me.
I turned my eyes up
but saw no Holy Host —
nothing sanctifying 
my days, my nights, my life.
I felt the ground beneath my bare feet
rumbling tremors of despair.
I looked down. 
Nothing was there.
But still I feel the earth quiver and quake
as I stand still in place.
I neither ascend nor descend.
Rather, I balance myself in the star-swept air
and pray for Salvation.

Cynthia Pitman has been published in Amethyst Review, Pain and Renewal (Anthology, Vita Brevis)Brought to Sight & Swept Away (Anthology, Vita Brevis ), Ekphrastic Journal, Scarlet Leaf, Third Wednesday (One Sentence Poem Contest finalist), Saw Palm (Pushcart Prize nominee), Adelaide, Right Hand Pointing, Red Fez (Story of the Week), and othersHer book, The White Room, was published in 2020 by Kelsay Books.

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