by Carol Edwards
For Mike
Simmering in this body’s pain I waited, expected relief, at first seeing Hope’s shadow around every bend; Now I only see a long, mirage-lined hallway hallucinations of a fevered brain frantic to grasp heat waving off sand. Is this perseverance, unbecoming who I used to be? Strong, but at what cost – like the last autumn leaf still fixed to its tree, a whisper and a ghost of past vibrancy – my vitality lost softness a luxury innards emptied stuffed instead with stone and somber earth that one day will return unto its own. Indwelling Spirit of the Holy One, Your kind rebuke echoes in the pillars of our bones, “By Myself I swore, for there is none greater, that My will shall be done on earth as it is in Heaven: your tears and suffering unwasted shall be, for within them they carry My purpose, My changeless mercy.”
Carol Edwards is a northern California native transplanted to southern Arizona. She lives and works in relative seclusion with her books, plants, and pets (+ husband). She grew up reading fantasy and classic literature, climbing trees, and acquiring frequent grass stains. She enjoys a coffee addiction and aspires to be a succulent mad scientist. Her work has appeared in a variety of publications, most recently in Open Skies Quarterly and Trouvaille Review, and forthcoming in Otherwise Engaged Literature and Arts Journal.
Agape Review 