by Ariana D. Den Bleyker

for Jim

In the small spaces of knowing, I was there lying broken
when God smiled & the light broke. & when he took it
into His hands & flung it against the maw of darkness,
its vibrations shifted through me, threads of light
from a waking sun—the language of God, of source,
where we root & nourish, giving us body, an ancestral light
we feel from the inside when even the deficit of light
brings more light—light chasing light—like igniting a match
& swallowing the flame, the taught, warm light allowing us
to glow a distant orange in our histories, a bright star in the east
burning echoes in our throats, fire in our chests, our bodies
eternal burning bushes, fragile bundles, brutal & beautiful,
woven together of joy & sorrow, every one of us a fire,
relics of holy flame, with God giving back the discomfort
of hope in all the brightness we carry. & in the breathing
of these moments, we take off our shoes & learn
a name that’s no name: I am what I am, the irrevocable
& benevolent light shining through us & in each heart
a Bethlehem. I understand this light to be my home.

Ariana D. Den Bleyker is a Pittsburgh native currently residing in New York’s Hudson Valley where she is a wife and mother of two. When she’s not writing, she’s spending time with her family and every once in a while sleeps. She is the author of three collections and twenty chapbooks, among others. She is the founder and publisher of ELJ Editions, Ltd., a 501(c)3 literary nonprofit. She hopes you’ll fall in love with her words.