Thirsty Psalm

Marilyn McCabe

Thirsty Psalm

I fill my cupped palms with sea.

Even as I lower my face it recedes,

as you are always running away.

Under my knees, sand stumbles

toward departing tide. Tipped

I flounder, wall-eyed, watermouthed. Slid,

I under you tumble. 

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Waiting Psalm

Await you in the orchard that the dripping rain 

from my outstretched arms blossoms, fruits, 

that the fruit implore you as a wasp to sweet,

as an asp to what's fallen from me gladly,

that you devour me in your salted spit,

the great gape of your singeing mouth.

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Some Whirl, Some Wheel

my energy to some next iteration

will burn and far-fling,

disintegrate, the Earth itself,

to mineral and

stain, 

my box-body, its slow

Is even the end a rest? I'll rot,

mitochondria, zinging electrons,

racing my heart, inside my cells the circling

through xylem and phloem, 

my blood

trees too, a great migration of sap,

planets approach, fall away, whole galaxies

If nothing at rest,

all is motion