[James Brancheau]

Revision

Particles and Waves

We thought it close, tall as a wish—
that the blessing of its arm could stir us
up and out, the lighthouse’s flashing
hand our nearest star, our own splay
of fingers squeezing rock and sand.

But our vessel of prayers was breached
that night, and when day broke open,
the bodied waves, the rising and falling
of our hope, among the most buoyant
of all debris, laid out for God the nature of light.





Particles and Waves

We thought it close, tall as a wish,
wide as a flash of light—its hand
and longest arm to pull us up and
out, a lighthouse’s reach our own
splay of fingers squeezing rock and sand.

Our vessel of prayers was breached
that night, and when the day broke
open with bodies, the rise and fall
of hope, among the most buoyant of
all debris, laid out for God the nature of light.