Fare Forward Poetry Competition, Honorable Mention
But the Breath of the Spirit, c.1967
By Mia Schilling Grogan
Sunday coated, bound in stiff wool, I’m perched
on my tuffet – the kneeler – in this world
of the pew, polished and warm. There’s much to do
here – turning the pages, clicking the hat clips,
fingering the silver beads my grandmother
hands me: Say a prayer on each one. I will.
I wish for a pony. I wish for a fish.
I wish for something on every worn bead,
which takes a while. It is quieter still
when the grown-ups kneel. I turn to kneel, too,
and the words murmuring over my head
are: Lord, I am not worthy that you should
enter under my roof… I can feel it.
Not the unworthiness – but the roof:
I am royal in a small crystal house,
a tiny glass palace, light and fragrant
with growing. I love it here. And Jesus
is coming for a visit.
I forgot
about this place until so many years
later when that translation returned,
upsetting some. But for me it brings, week
in and out, a flashback to childhood’s joy:
I am precious, ensconced, anticipating.
Mia Schilling Grogan is an Associate Professor of English at Chestnut Hill College in Philadelphia. Her work has most recently been published in Ekstasis, America, and Presence: A Journal of Catholic Poetry.
