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The preacher enters the pulpit.

The waiting watchful befriend her like a cloak.

In the round silence of those before her

she breathes — in, out, in.


But this moment!

Perfect communion lies within her,

just as the infinite bowl of the sky and

the sea — arms open — enjoy their widest horizon.


A poet lays down a line, scrubs it out,

tugs a thread of memory up to the light,

tests its tensile strength, rappelling

down the sheer face of terror — almost delight.


On the sea cliff a diver waits, counting the waves,

marking his breaths, holding this moment —

all heart and bones — as near to

prayer as the cry of a newborn.


Each one

enters Creation

innocent of the abyss,

the leap itself containing all.


Barry Casey has published in Spectrum Magazine, Brevity, Mountain Views, Patheos, Faculty Focus, and The Dewdrop. His collection of essays, Wandering, Not Lost: Essays on Faith, Doubt, and Mystery, was published by Wipf and Stock in November 2019. More of his writing can be found at He writes from Burtonsville, Maryland.

Photo by Austin Neill on Unsplash


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