Prompt:
I have lost the consolation of faith
though not the ambition to worship.
Forrest Gander, poet
Lost Consolation, January 21, 2009
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Consolation
I need a cave but I won’t go in.
A hand to hold but I flinch.
Circle, circle, circle like a dog
I’m tired and weary and won’t stop.
The sky is blue but the black
Seeps through. And the night fair game
for torment.
Obama! A new star
The word means hope
I have wonder and waiting.
Into the cloud of grief,
Is the place to find comfort.
Today I made a call.
The icy air signals me
To listen
Because I know.
The distant bells
Are less impeded
And more beautiful.
I can not find the entire poem from which the prompt lines are taken. I’ve read through several Forrest Gander poems, searching, and that has been a pleasure.