Full
there is a deep breath
resonating through the walls
and I am coming closer
to catching it
not concerned with lasting
concerned with now
not before
but because of
arriving
not leaving
made-up
not fantasy
there is a deep breath
resonating through
these paper walls
not calm
but full
Ambiguity Survives
here is to hope
here is to the hope
of something after
this life bloated with
beauty and love
and unjustifiable loss
here is to the hope of god
ambiguity survives
on the broken wings of hope
struggling in a sky
heavy with heartache
and the tears outnumber
us and most things
flourishing like fire on oil
but the flood
is just bearable
and we do not drown
The End-Of-Days
the worms are
gathering en masse
desperate to praise
their worm god
sure that the End-Of-Days
is upon us
they cannot breathe between
the raindrops of this
summer storm
what sounds like
the howling wind
is really the worms
wailing as they drown:
why does rain never
fall where it is needed?
From Ashes and Stardust
it should not matter
if the sea really parted
if the bread is body
if the wine is blood
if the prophet ascended
from this rock or that
the words still move us
still fill our veins with bloody streams
even if all the books are burned
even if we all hit our heads
and cannot remember our names
we will still find the words
they will crawl up our throats
and climb out our mouths
and fill whatever we make our pages:
a phoenix risen from the ashes to find
that only ashes and stardust are left
The Giant Old White Man
when I was five
they asked me to draw God
and I was certain G-d
was an old white man
so that’s what I drew—
a giant old white man
with a long white beard and no legs
He was a ghost
gray and hovering in the sky
when I was six
my mother told me
she loved me more than god
she said
she thought God would be okay with it
and I thought so too
when I was little
I didn’t need G-d’s love
I didn’t feel warm or welcome
when I thought of the
old white man floating in the sky
I felt my family’s love
and I worshiped them
Scattered
there are fires
raging in our temporal lobes
the smoke billows
towards you
it’s euphoria
it’s the greatest pain
we’ve ever felt
it is the hollow
it is the whole
and we have to keep
asking where it all
came from
and why
and if this is it
we have to keep
pushing further
digging deeper
demanding answers
we know we’ll never get
we have kept you
smoldering
at the bottom of our brains
and we still don’t know
if we are picking up the pieces
or scattering more
Hannah Ehlers is a student at American University.
