Wednesday, December 11, 2013

meeting poetry

{photo by jennifer upton}
I remember where she found me, a step beyond the shelves of
appropriate and good Christian girl.
she found me in the place
where technically, neither of us were supposed to be.

she was forbidden, but only a little, because her big sister
was the right kind of words
the kind that might not send me to hell, the kind that King David
penned and approved.

I found her in the wanna-be classroom, the place where
I hid my black lipstick and let the hair hang into my eyes
she was key-shaped angst and a forbidden road to the required
she whispered, “drink me,” and I obliged.

she was sin
or maybe she was water turned to wine
the kind that they disapproved, but that He raised in a glass
and spoke, “this is My blood.”

she turned me into smoke, the good kind
incense and candle wisps,  
the kind they said would send me down a road too wide

and He and She and I were okay with that. 


  1. I love you dear Rachel. You doing okay?

    1. honestly, Em, I've never been better. I'm finding my voice, finding my freedom.

      this poem is about me as a teenager, actually, about my discovering poetry beyond Shakespeare and the Psalms.

      love you too, dear one.

  2. Dear Rachel
    Oh, that one that dares to discover beyond the safe horizons of the accepted norm, is usually the one that is free to live and to breath and to have its being in Jesus.
    Beautiful XX


I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon