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Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Poem 014

Beneath the skull’s overcast dome, a Farmer plows my brainfield
----with crooked, meandering, furrows, dusty trenches thirsting
like finches freshly hatched, featherless, whose radish-resembling heads
----instinctively anticipate what host a mother’s beak may bring,
breadcrumbs, rose-buds, myrtle-sprigs, some writhing, shriveling, worm,
----want and provision erecting young necks from the nest,
its wattle fence their first exposure to faith, a forum for voicing
----psalms and complaints to the descending parent.

Like these chicks, my soil accepts whatever is planted, uncomprehended,
----blossoming sprouts up toward the sun while imaginative rains
baptize root-balls to tunnel down deep, universally feeding
----the sapling green limbs and heart-piercing thorns of figs and weeds
entangling this plot. Only the Gardener’s keen shears can cultivate
----this fated harvest- prudence blooming its womb with a promise.

Nathaniel A. Schmidt of Rockford, Michigan is an English Adjunct at Spring Arbor University. His poetry has appeared in such periodicals as Perspectives, and Windhover. "Covenantal" is forged from much of Isaiah 55, particularly verses 3, 8 and 10-13.