altars – a poem by Jonathan Chan

altars

after Christian Wiman


beholding the void,
the dream unfolds as
magnificent-dark. i

know it only by its 
pulsations, passing like
a frottage of clouds, like

condensation in the air,
the psychological tug
of regress. i counted

the callings of a 
God-sized work,
remembered the bodies

falling, the voices clamouring
up and down the ceilings,
the chill of a darkened room.

from whose womb could such
ice come forth? enough to
silence the thin, thin fires, 

enough to make one 
repent in the dust,
repent in the ashes. 

here i built the altars
of word and song, lit
a candle, sensed the 

hovering of an inkling,
a hunch. i heard the 
water running over, the

water poured out like 
wrath, the water’s 
soliloquy always coming,

always careening, 
enveloping the winnowed
husk of faith. the princes

of Judah are like those 
who remove 
a landmark. coming 

back to the void, 
tremulous and still, 
i heard it: 

“let us walk backward
to our prayers.”

Jonathan Chan is a writer and editor. Born in New York to a Malaysian father and South Korean mother, he was raised in Singapore and educated at Cambridge and Yale Universities. He is the author of the poetry collection going home (Landmark, 2022) and Managing Editor of poetry.sg. He has recently been moved by the work of Ada Limón, Rowan Williams, and Mervin Mirapuri. More of his writing can be found at jonbcy.wordpress.com.