Backyard Passages

by Edward A. Dougherty

From the book:

From "Chicory Flower Song"

I lay my body down in a bed of cricketsong
and rise again to mist in the crowtrees.

The spirit's a vessel where light never bottoms,
where we pour in the glass beads
of our daily dreams, our countless endeavors,
each smaller than the last until talc-fine sand
fills in and openings yet exist
where the undiscovered moves.

What I know slips a gap-toothed gear.
What I know of God couldn't illuminate
a cicada's wing. Still, I write these notes
to leave in the rain. I've been loved,

often extravagantly, and the wire of it
hums all the answer I seek. From the pulpit
with Om carved into its fragrant wood,
love's the only Gospel proclaimed.

Concelebratory, vibrations of being
fuse body and spirit, voice and will,
past and future
word and silence and now
this reading
our vast text.

28 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2012

About the author

Edward A. Dougherty lives and works in Corning, NY. He was given the SUNY Chancellor's Award for Excellence in Scholarship and Creative Activities.