As if God had stooped to whisper

A poem by Geoffrey Brock, “Sweet Recess”:

It’s odd: the sacred world can pass for years

Unseen, then fill your eyes, stopping you still,

As if God had stooped to whisper in your ears

Look there: the nuthatch on the kitchen sill,

Feathers ruffled to fatness against the cold;

The neighbor’s listing shed, its siding (white

Once, gray and peeling now) recast in gold

By early evening’s kind alchemic light;

Or one you love, framed in the entryway,

Wholly herself, and you for once abstracted

From fierce desire, its lenses and scaffoldings,

And left by language, which will not convey

The sense of stupid wonder that, though muted,

Fills the cage of your ribs with a riff of wings.

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