Poem: Slicing loose is not creation

Georges de la Tour, The Dream of St. Joseph, c. 1640

The pause

braided into waiting

forging patience

the way ash is made

                                     by the flames, blackening

                                        Then white

 

All things are quite silent,

and I really need to see you

 

What is God, if not a holder of hope

and how can I live this soul alone?