To Live in the Mercy of God

[on a poem by Denise Levertov]

She says

she feels it:

like awe.

A warm updraft

lifting wings

weightless

—to live in

the mercy of God.

Well—

I don’t

feel it the same.

Maybe sometimes,

but those are usually

inarticulate or dumb.

Most times

(no one tracks

these statistics)

it feels more akin

to swimming up

an icy waterfall

with lead arms

—to live in

the mercy of God.