Academic journal article Dialogue : A Journal of Mormon Thought

The Fog

Academic journal article Dialogue : A Journal of Mormon Thought

The Fog

Article excerpt

"And the bow shall be in the cloud;

and I will look upon it, that I may remember . . ."

but then when I was crazy

broken exiled to the downtown dark

hidden in a red brick fist of space

between the sanctuary of First Presbyterian

and the seedy entryway to Chez Pierre

the soggy air was not a token or a sign

the divine made tangible

not an anointing kiss

on my lids and lashes

not water in its spirit form

immersing me

it was just a sodden fallen

God-forsaken cloud

a smudged stupor of despair

that veiled the moon

and my pale prayers

that thickened every thread that I had on

with wet

breached every cell with frost

and made me forget

the possibility of warmth

the hope of warmth

or deliverance

that third night of five

spent speechless faithless barely alive

only feeling real

with the slats of bench to underline my length

I didn't know yet

that as bad as it got (and would get)

it could have been much worse

I didn't know yet that I'd been heard

and given strength to make it through

to dawn

that the silence was response repose

a chance to know the grace of extremity

the bench that I was on a pew

in the sanctum of the elements

and I an answered supplicant

wrapped and protected

in the sacrament

of the airborne dew

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