I hear you (σ’ακούω)

It happens sometimes
when I am convinced
of such wondrous proposals
that the stars’ burden is the heavens.

Or when a wave of air
comes rushing into my lungs
reflection upon a step I take,
or remembrance of the sun
which I happily find casting shadows
over my path.

It is sudden,
like a burst of light.
When all around me is illuminated by the flash
as if I was blind before.

It happens suddenly,
when I hear You
because with all my searching
I have been diving in and out of dim awareness
whereas simply listening means
everything is illuminated.

In gold, the folds of life around me,
the rocks are singing,
their hearts are beating.
I am dumbfounded and repeat to myself
like prayer does:
All I had to do was listen.

You whisper words
tongues speak not
and ears never hear.
Hearing is not hearing.
Listening with my feet as I walk,
feeling the water on my hands,
or seeing the snow fall like faeries
struck in awe by their Lord,
falling meditatively to the earth,
to life,
I hear You,
I hear You!
Like a breath or beating heart
like a whisper just beyond the realm
of perception.
I know when I hear You,
because when my being greets the world,
my feet step,
my eyes touch, and
my hands swallow,
when my being greets the cosmos
all is alive.
All is illuminated.
All is listening.
And their listening is so loud.
And I am over-joyed in joining the listening.

~Psalm #1: a Troparion for Winter, Queer Psaltikon


About Garrett Kiriakos-Fugate

grad student in Islamic studies, student of architecture, queer, radical moose+lamb, language nerd, folk dancer, musician, lover of books and writing
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