How to Pray After Jessica Jacobs, How to Pray Forget words, especially rote. Resist the temptation to flee. Dig in. Listen to all that talk inside that makes you crazy. Rub those knotted worries like a rosary, inhale the rusty fear, get rid of your preference for certain tastes. Accept them all. With your eyes closed, fall deep into the dark. Let it chaff your skin until you are tender, raw. Stop holding your breath as if underwater. Breathe. I’ve been here my share of time. The backs of my thighs are itchy where they meet the cushion, just like when I sit in the grass. My ribs once tied together have loosened and the closed fist around my heart has let go. My stomach, a nest of crying birds, has quieted but my lashes are soaked as if snowflakes have pooled there. The solid shadows, the debris of all yesterdays have been swept out. Under the topsoil of my hair, my roots run audaciously in an open field under a clear sky where I find nothing but a longing.
Angela Hoffman’s poetry collections include Resurrection Lily and Olly Olly Oxen Free (Kelsay Books). She placed third in the WFOP Kay Saunders Memorial Emerging Poet in 2022. Her poems have been published internationally. She has written a poem a day since the start of the pandemic. Angela lives in rural Wisconsin.
Amethyst Review 