Lap of Stars: Poetry by Brenda Yeager

I sought refuge. I thought: round
and clay. Or a particular arc,
trunk to branch, green and shady? Maybe
the source of jasmine, mother, tequila? Glass
elevator, descending wonder, over and above
as a fountain blesses the lobby? And a door,
everywhere, threshold easily revolving
between longing and the boulders of this world.
Definitely barefoot, knowledge arises from dirt:
how to travel home, how wind bears the future fruit.
But then, the trees began burning;
the drowned city gasping;
and refuge lifted off the runway,
sisters and brothers clinging to its metal wings.
At last, I stand from the endlessly scrolling 
thumb of my mind, will the volume, up, up
dance surrender down, until it is obvious:
my own flesh is the light I seek
my enemy, golden
Now my head bows, 
bone by bone, spine pours
into Your deep lap of stars
where shining is the way.
I see: the dust of origin is my own salt
crystalline, sparkling and soaks. Your velvet
milky night takes it all, my Beloved.
Now I know refuge:
everything dying, every day.
The slow path the tear wets
down my cheek.
I wish I could remember the name
of the song that was playing
when I became free, but
it wouldn’t be a prescription anyway.
Every rhythm beats the heart in its own time,
only once,
and so I have to take another breath.

Brenda also has appeared in our Rooted in Poetry Podcast, hosted by Lake County Poet Laureate Georgina Marie. To listen, click here.