Sarah Sarai
St. Sarah Sarai Carrying the Infant Christ Child
Creeping, is what a
saffron sun is doing,
creeping out from a past
it will soon revisit.
I hike my blood-red tunic
to my thighs
with one hand while the
other, well,
in my arms, well, always
a child,
always delivered to us in
indrawn-
infant stillness, as if
creation
holds its breath because,
really,
all this is over so much
too soon.
Isn’t making art
remembering
what we knew? Why not,
then, salvation?
The water over rocks cold
on granite—
quartz and orthoclase—and
slick moss.
I’m the last person who
should be entrusted
to carry Him, me of the
angry sinner school.
And I would forswear
sainthood and irony,
I would, for this one,
held against my heart.
In response to:
Saint Christopher and the
Infant Christ, Follower of Dieric Bouts (Netherlandish, ca.
1480).
http://www.aug.edu/augusta/iconography/december2001/christopher.html
Sarah Sarai's likes to stare at art. She
has poems in The Minnesota Review,
The Threepenny Review,
PANK,
Terrain.org,
The Columbia Review,
Main Street Rag and others; and fiction in journals
including Weber Studies, South Dakota Review and
VerbSap.com. Visit her at
www.myspace.com/sarahsarai. |
