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Susan Cowger

Art & Poetry

Art Poetry

Crossing the Grand Canyon

by Susan Cowger 5 Comments

Crossing the Grand Canyon

O God of angels, stranded on the head
of a pin, my God of the depths,

who speaks only with spaces
between words and worlds,

whose heart wrings out clotted rivers deep inside,
whose breath touches every unknown and naked cliff,

You who made my expanse bare, You the Insistent
Invisible, O God, whose absence is presence

of both dread and disbelief, my God,
with both my hands in the emptiness,

the pocket You call do-not-be-afraid, here I am,
with and without, leaning into Nothingness.

–

March 30, 2009 , God, Grand Canyon, nothing Blog

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Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Craig and Bethany says

    April 2, 2009 at 5:35 am

    Yes, good poem.

    The spaces. Language is just a silly jumble without the spaces. Can’t arrange letters in any meaning without rock solid non-negotiable spaces. Yeah, I can grab onto faith like that.

    Keep ’em coming!

    Reply
  2. Pig Woman says

    March 31, 2009 at 7:53 pm

    Ooooh. It concerns your hubby. Well NOW it makes sense. But really, who doesn’t have to make that decision? I mean it looks like believing in a fairy tale if you look at it with just your five senses. Oooooh. I get it now.

    Good poem Seester!

    Reply
  3. Susan Cowger says

    March 31, 2009 at 4:58 pm

    I am married to a person whose rock-solid faith is a daily decision to put aside the question:Is there a God? His faith is not solid because of tangible evidence of God but because he has decided that if, IF, it is true, THAT is what he wants. A true leap of faith that I admire because it has no strings attached to anything else.

    Reply
  4. Pig Woman says

    March 31, 2009 at 3:53 pm

    Everytime I read one of your poems, Goat, I take an involuntary step back and say, “Whoa!……..She weren’t like this growing up.” And it really annoys me that you are smarter than me in this language realm. Me deciphering poetry is like you deciphering a math problem. So I know I could be totally wrong in my interpretation, but do I detect a vague note of hmmmmm….helplessness coming out of this poem in my ever optimistic seester?(Ok. I know. Everyone else is thinking either “well DUH”, or “good grief, what a brick”)

    Hey, Deac., love the winkie face! No, I haven’t seen that before.

    Reply
  5. kris says

    March 31, 2009 at 3:19 pm

    wow! all that sculpting is tickling the “right” parts of your brain. amazing. “pocket You call do-not-be-afraid”–I’d give you ten bucks for that line–maybe more 😉

    Reply

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