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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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THE BODY A SCROLL

 

In the dream of a healing circle, a silver implement

placed in my hand. Ancient tool you’d be given to decipher

 

the Torah, slender with carved leafy edges, glistening

when held to the light. Except here we are reading

 

our bodies: rib cage a code we’re unwinding, the heart

parchment, an inscription encased in the pulse. And hands,

 

tuning forks set on skin to wake up molecules, transmit

cadence to arteries, make the two hemispheres dance. Then, out

 

of the blue, a man at my feet in torn clothing, turning his torso

in pain. Dark hair matted with sweat, dark beard curly, still

 

young—and I kneel close. Lay palms on his shoulder and wrapped

in the cloth of his rapture, speak of the good he has done, how he’s

 

loved so many. And in real life this might not make sense, but that

was the night I comforted Jesus—and when I awakened, moonlight

 

plowed through my window like summer, grazing every room in the house.

 

                                                                                            
                                                             — Laurie Sewall



 


                                             Ralph Smith