I’ve swum in the blue fossilization of air
not numbed or shuddering,
but wholly at home, ecstatic even.
Snowfall-covered ears listening
to the wind and light, to the long soft bellows
of the trees. It’s an echo now I love,
a deep resounding in my bones,
a cryptic music the heart holds
slantwise and singing. Against the dim-lit
mountains, the wandering moon of memory
casts a collective shadow,
and the hungering spirits
hold out their tenuous hands
to catch the blood-drop radiance.
This is our inherited bread.
Our weather system of grace.
The magnanimous storm
which occasionally drifts into our lives
with its cascade of blessings.
Seth Jani lives in Seattle, WA, and is the founder of Seven CirclePress. Their work has appeared in American Poetry Journal, Chiron Review, The Comstock Review, Rust + Moth and Pretty Owl Poetry, among others. Their full-length collection, Night Fable, was published by FutureCycle Press in 2018. Visit them at https://www.sethjani.com.