An Archaeology of Time and Secrets

We fled the hungry streets
To find solace in upturned faces,
The eyes always speak what the mouth cannot.

The pedestal, such a lonely place
And craving for what can never fill,
The heart expands into precipitation and rain.

We are peeling the layers of earth
To dig up an archaeology of time and secrets,
Gently we brush away soil from each bone.

We have found inside of us a voice
Interlinked with the wisdom of generations,
A whisper is all it takes for these bones to rise once again.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Dane Deaner Unsplash

Join the Poetry as Therapy online Retreat - it's easy, just enter your email into the sign up form at www.secretplacedevotion.weebly.com and you will receive an email a day for 21 days in the comfort of your own home 1-21 June this year.

There Go I

Where the ones who search for precious metals
in the seams of the earth go, there go I.

The ones who leap off the edge of earth
to fly as flying foxes, at one with risk, there go I.

Those who dive below the corals under
nourishment of sun to delve for treasure obscure,
there go I with them.

To navigate the passages of hospitals to hold the hand
of one who has already been wept dry, there go I.

To look death in the face and show no fear
because fear has been exposed, can hide no more
I go there too.

Where the ones go who said, I will never
and who say, On the other side, that was not so bad,
after all, I could, I did.
There I wish to be willing to go.

The ones who left the verge of reason
and reasonable request to take a chance for the Beloved,

The ones who plundered darkness convinced
there must be something greater there than dark,

The ones who defied gravity in the face of all
fingers pointing, voices doubting

To find themselves much more than only human,
there I wish to be willing to go.

There I wish to say, I could, I did.

Jenneth Graser

Photography Jarin Bontrager Unsplash

Join the Poetry as Therapy free online Retreat 1 - 21 June 2018

Reach Forward

Lord, you have carried me behind the mountain
to speak what only I can hear.

It is necessary to reach forward by hiding
in your shadow.

You have settled me in the hollow of the earth
so that the soles of my feet may remember.

You have searched me for what, I do not know
but I have said to you, please, come.

There were knocks on the door I could not recognise.
You appeared as a stranger and I would not let you in.

Come to me in a way I can comprehend
and I will open every door in my house to you.

I want to learn the languages of your speech,
so that I do not need a translator.

I want to embed myself in the rumble of your voice
and my spirit will receive what my mind can't understand.

You are willing to surprise me out of my old skin
so that I may fall upon the ground at your feet

And find my true form, made before light
touched the first horizon.

Jenneth Graser

Join the 21 Day Poetry as Therapy Online Retreat 1 - 21 June 2018 by clicking here.