23

even though i walk through 
the valley of the shadow of death
i fear no evil 
and by walk
i mean sit
and by valley
i mean gorge
and by no
i mean all

because rods and staffs are made
of wood
and wood can break and burn
and i am tired of people
who say wood is safe
when even their own god
was nailed to it

maybe psalms are not blueprints
maybe they are intimate screams
and maybe they exist
like this poem
to speak to the truth of the author
maybe the reader
but not necessarily the universe

our trauma
can’t always
be healed
through verse
or
platitude
or
prayer
but by sitting
in the gorge
until
we are ready
to move
not like a sheep
but like a person

for god did not create us
to be herded quickly through our pain
but to sit and breathe
until quiet waters call us to rise and walk