by David Tuvell
In the beginning was the text,
which had an argument
with silence,
and this birthed god into the air.
There’s a running argument
between god and yahweh,
between trees and breezes,
between Dickinson and Ashbery.
We have set up camp here,
in a Japanese zen garden,
and when the sky gets violet,
when a storm rolls in, we fasten
down our tent and listen
to the wind through the bamboo,
to the rain before the raining,
and we call it holy music, though
it’s really god complaining.
Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU online creative writing