hymnbook ooo lisa bickmore

AD 238A o 957-4686 o Lisa.Bickmore@slcc.edu

Hymn

I have said that I would linger years in stifling attic rooms
with a pen in my hand and dingy paper in readiness
for your voice to speak itself through my lips

but instead I have not waited at all, you’ve not
pouted at my unworthiness or the shambling wreck
of this room, my life. And in the place of all sullenness

you have brought me a splendor of gifts,
and have left the window open so that cool autumn air
pours perpetually in, stirring the still atoms

of this dwelling; and you have waked me in the night,
with murmured airs praising my name which none other may hear,
and have pressed yourself on me, over me, your hair falling,

a dark star falling in the moon’s brightest sky;
and have shown me the road to the river, and then to the sea;
and have urged me on to the door so that I will depart

into the air which stings like wine in the throat.
I have found cold apples heaped on our bed and have felt
your hand on my skin. I have not needed to court you, because

you are in love with me, with my words and voice,
and when I have wept to submit to harsher gods, you
have sung me back to you in holy words, your ravishing hymn.