Andrea Rosenberg
St. Gertrude and St. Hildegard Writing Groups
Mart of abundance
O Goods, aisles of everything
All my needs met here!
I wander transfixed, fed by shelves, products,
Specials, exclusives,
This-week-only, this week only, for you alone,
the lowest price ever,
the cart of shards is full, glittering.
I barely heard the knock upon the door.
I might have heard a bell ring in my chest.
There might have been a rustle in a tree.
I might have seen a jeweled arch somewhere.
A whisper from a ragged prophet’s mouth.
I maybe heard a quiet voice that called,
That called my name, determined, not resigned.
I maybe left my shopping cart behind,
And left the best deal ever there—so what?
And found the voice that called to me, and there,
Heaving a great sigh, not looking back,
Unlocked and opened wide the Holy Door.
The good deals vanished, good-bye splashy wow.
Lantern-lit, a patient gravel path,
Blue rose, transparent river, quiet grass.