Jim Richards
Silence, then the rustling of robes. The sun opens like an eye
and waves of white light pour through a shudder of leaves.
The sun opens like an eye and aspens burst into flame
to a shudder of leaves. Fire flows in the riverbed.
Aspens burst into flame, the walkways are paved with pearl,
and fire flows in the riverbed. White blood fills a white heart.
The walkways are paved with pearl, the air flooded with music,
and white blood fills a white heart. Body is as bright as snow,
flooded with music, and the world is a sea of glass,
the body as bright as snow. Wind can see through stone,
and the world is a sea of glass, with waves of light receding,
the sun closing like an eye. The rustling of robes. Silence.
Jim Richards (www.jim-richards.com) has taught literature and creative writing since completing a PhD at the University of Houston in 2003. His poetry, prose, and photography have appeared recently in Poetry Northwest, Sugar House Review, Prairie Schooner, Southern Poetry Review, Juked, Cumberland River Review, and Inklette. He has received nominations for Best New Poets, two Pushcart Prizes, and was granted a fellowship from the Idaho Arts Commission. He lives in Rexburg, Idaho.