Goodwife’s Prayer, Autumn 1653
Do I call after you, Lord, through the dark
hallways of leaves, this black forest,
in air so full and heavy it pulls against
one’s journey? No motion in the trees.
Spirit voices from the far fields. I’ve heard
the cries of nightjars, seen them dive across
the last shadows of a day. The hills’ faint,
failing outline — evenings I’ve seen it
whisper and go. I ask: have we come, too,
only to flicker and fade, only to seek you
now within the formless hollow of this
wilderness? Say. Speak. Let me know.
Previously published in The Christian Century
Poem by Steve Wilson
Steve Wilson’s poems have appeared in journals and anthologies nationwide; as well as in five collections, the most recent entitled *The Reaches* (2019). He lives in San Marcos, Texas.