Tektōn – a poem by Kimberly Beck

Tektōn

The air turns in a wheel of dust and gold
as it falls through an open window.
His hands leave furrows in the dirt, and 
as water forms the clay, 
remnants spin around Him, a lingering shimmer
of pensive pirouettes.

The chipped bark of His skin
is scraped, and rugged, and steady
as He moves from shaped earth
to felled tree. 
A tangle of driftwood hums
its psalm of war-washed splinters,
of rivers running deep, and desperately
dark.

He listens
with the very tips of His weathered fingers,
              listens 
with the dust and the dawn-sun, which 
still falls, still spins
from the golden pool of His open window.

He listens, and 
His listening Makes. 

Kimberly Beck is a poet from Washington State. She can often be found at a local therapy ranch, caring for a very special herd of Norwegian Fjord Horses. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Solid Food Press, Ekstasis Magazine, and Clayjar Review.