Man of Faith – a poem by David B. Prather

Man of Faith
The world at my back, I lie
prone in a field in the only spot
trees refuse to block from view.
Blades of grass lean toward my body
to hold me in place. Then
I focus on the firmament,
all those gradients of blue
from edge to edge. Clouds drift
diagonally, bright bodies
clinging to their shadows.
I start to feel the bonds of gravity
snap loose, my stomach
floating free, then my head, dizzy,
a bubble drawn into the emptiness
before me. This is the feeling
of falling up, the rapture
of the body pulled to the heavens.
I used to be a boy in the wilderness,
always looking skyward. Now
I am a man of faith
who closes his eyes to come back
down to earth, which carries all my sorrow
through the vastness of space.

David B. Prather is the author of We Were Birds (Main Street Rag Publishing). His second collection will be published by Fernwood Press. His work has appeared in many print and online journals, including Prairie Schooner, Psaltery & Lyre, The Meadow, Cutleaf, Sheila-Na-Gig, etc. He studied acting at the National Shakespeare Conservatory, and he studied writing at Warren Wilson College.

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