Our Lady of the Atlantic
Summer, 1855
When the 7-year-old slipped
overboard and the captain
declared the boy would drown
before they could lower a lifeboat,
we commended his soul
to you, Watery Lady.
Lady of Ice Floes, of Deepest
Blue. We pled:
Welcome him to your
house of ice, lay him
on a seaweed bed,
transmute his flesh to fish.
Two mothers had already
dropped babies in the waves,
waxy and white.
When his head sank
out of sight, his body
swept by swells, who else
could hold the horror
of his mother, father, their eyes
locked on horizon,
the vanishing spot.
Only you could carry
the brand for that wound,
Lady of Lapis Blood,
remind them of Zion,
and eternal parenthood. Only you,
Lady of Criss Cross
Veins, could whisper of your boy
as you rocked to sleep their son.
– First published in Sugar House Review #19 –
Stained Glass
You can’t be afraid of cuts, the glazier says,
showing her hands
beautiful with scars.
She works with gloves on,
protected from slivers hidden
in the wood table’s grain.
But on occasion, she sweeps her hand
over the table’s surface
and snags the fabric of her skin.
A hazard of the profession,
a few cells in exchange
for the privilege of dying light
different colors— the blue folds
of Mary’s robe, the red of Jesus’ blood,
the milk of his skin
when he’s pulled
from the brown cross, the green
stems of lilies announcing: Life.
All these hues paint your face
the colors of reverence,
whether you believe or no,
as you sit or kneel in church, any
church. Perhaps an old abbey with tall
columns, hunky punks, a rose window,
and sunlight
genuflecting through clouds
to worship at the altar of her art.
– First published under the title “Glazier” in Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought 46:1 (Spring 2013) –
Dayna Patterson is a Thea-curious recovering Mormon, fungophile, macrophotography enthusiast, and textile artist. She’s the author of Titania in Yellow (Porkbelly Press, 2019) and If Mother Braids a Waterfall (Signature Books, 2020). Honors include the Association for Mormon Letters Poetry Award and the 2019 #DignityNotDetention Poetry Prize judged by Ilya Kaminsky. Her creative work has appeared recently in EcoTheo, Kenyon Review, and Whale Road Review. She’s the founding editor of Psaltery & Lyre and a co-editor of Dove Song: Heavenly Mother in Mormon Poetry. In her spare time, she curates Poetry + Fungus, a pairing of poetry books and species from the fungal world. daynapatterson.com
About the poems
►”Holy Week 2020″ : Early in the pandemic, as we sheltered in place, I wrote every day in an attempt to staunch my anxiety and grief. I thought of how the word “stanza” means “standing place” or room, and a loose floor plan of my home with its doors and windows seemed like a fitting container for this piece. I’ve also been experimenting with combining poetry and embroidery into a form I’m calling poembroidery. Like writing or reading a poem, embroidery is an art that invites practitioners and viewers to slow down, take time, linger, breathe.
►”Our Lady of the Atlantic” : The details in this poem about babies buried at sea and the seven-year-old boy who drowns while his family can only watch are borrowed from a book about my great-great-great grandfather, Charles Ramsden Bailey: His Life and Families. He converted to Mormonism as a youth in England and crossed the Atlantic with his mother and sisters.
►”Stained Glass” : On my mission in Montreal, I met a glazier. When I asked her what it was like to work with glass, she responded with the first line of this poem. I’ve always loved stained glass, a little bit jealous of ornate cathedral windows while Mormon chapel windows tend to be plain, bland. (Maybe we should call them blandows?) I hope she’s still making her beautiful art–we need all the beauty we can get.
