Saint Augustine

Saint Augustine preached humility &

the need to simply be on the ground.

Do you wish to rise? he asked. What

would he say of these words then, which,

after all, are meant to replace us? What

would he say of the way I go back, again

& again, to the burning house, the house

we've already escaped? These words—

so quick, the way they rise up, like sparks,

or smoke, a person could get lost in the sky

watching them, a person could lose track

of the important things. Spot quiz: What's

the opposite of standing before a house

on fire, trying to understand the flames,

& knowing you will never understand?

I want to enter into that moment my mother

strikes her first match, but I'm still asleep

upstairs. In the dream I'm walking through

the marsh, because only there, surrounded

by water, am I safe. Are your hands

the water? Are these words the flame?

The reeds are taller than I am, the mud

slows everything down. In some ways

I cannot imagine seeing you again, but here

l am, kneeling as in prayer at your bedside,

counting our breaths. What would stop me

from taking your hand then & placing it on my

chest? O Lord, help me be pure, but not yet.

Even as I write each word I am farther from

God—sometimes I just can't find it. If only I could

have the faith I hear coming from the radio,

the way it always knows I'm listening. One day

these years will be known as the space between

silence & enough. I still have trouble being alone

in either, which is why the radio is always on.

Do you wish to rise? Augustine asks. Begin

by descending.

Source: I Will Destroy You (Graywolf Press, 2019)