Joe Puentes
Poem: “To Hell or High Water”
out of inky blackness you called the universe
into being. from water and dirt you shaped and
formed me, the crown of all your creatures. you
created me to be godlike, but my desire was for more.
I asked myself to whom should I lay bare my
devotion? to you or me? I chose me. now I’m misplaced —
a sojourner wandering outside the garden fence. I straddle
its boundaries hoping my tongue can taste over-spray
from the river cascading down out of heaven.
I long to feel my skin leap for joy at the warmth
of invisible beams coming from the Father of lights.
my eyes strain to see the blue, orange, and pink
of the celestial horizon.
I know things are not what they should be.
my heart cries out to be home again.
hope speaks —
it’s only passing.
a new garden is being planted.
a new place to call home.
I am reawakened with an understanding:
creation itself isn’t divine, the one who creates is divine.
Lewis said what makes and what is made must be two, not one.
the dark loneliness will burn away.
a fresh breeze will arise bringing a new vigor.
the passing always brings new life —
spring blossoms out of the soil.
and to hell or high water
it’s spring again.
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