Erebus by Krista Canterbury Adams
I have seen him enter the moonlight,
have seen him calm the holy breath & restore
the quiet life to that from which
breath & life had lain departed. And I have been
chilled by him, have disliked him suddenly,
even while lowering to my knees.
Where you & I have lit the red-glassed candles,
I have come upon him
upon the mossy, cold stones.
I have turned my hands up in the whitening
air, in the pour of rain beating there. And I have
plummeted,
evil-anointed,
down through smoke of oak & aspen.
What words can I speak, in the crash
of the city, to worship—eye to eye—
among the dark
burnt ashes?