Two Poems by Rick Davis

parousia-magazine-christmas-issue

 

I-THOU

I sit
In a coffee-house
As I so often do,

Alone,
But never
Left alone

Sitting anonymously
In the warming crowd

Disappearing
In a favorite
Stuffed oversized
Chair

As if hiding
In a peaceful
Winter cloud.

I peer
Outward

Smiling
Inwardly

With my
Body tingling
In restful
Relaxation.

A man
At a small table
Sits by himself
Next to chilly
Drafty glass,

Struggling not
To cry.

Tears
Escape his eyes
As his head
Trembles,

Just a bit,

And he takes
Off his glasses,

Coughing,

Feigning,
Quite convincingly,

A cold
Or allergies

And for a few
Ephemeral seconds

I feel
What it is like

To be him –

To be
Left alone

And so,
For a moment,

I, too,
Shake

As if some kind
Of spiritual

Power surge
Flows through me,

And then,
So quickly

I am back,
Floating in peace

On the wheels
Of Cuban music.

The man coughs
Again,

This time
Even more convincingly,

But there is
Nothing to say –
Nothing to console

As I don’t
Know him
And can’t
Sustain
His hell.

I pray.

Once again
I feel the man’s
Palpitating heart

And I spiritually
Touch him

Bathing him
In pink promising light.

Now he is “OK,”
Touching his
Expertly
Styled hair

And gets lost
In turning
Newspaper pages.

For now,
He has hidden
Depression’s emptiness

And maybe,
Just maybe,

God answers prayers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
CONTEMPLATIVE PRAYER

Sin
Like rain
Drumming

Causes me
To feel
Prayerful

So, with
Veneration
And dragon
Fierceness

I spiritually
Fly
Inside,

Through the
Vastness
Of the galaxy,

Leaving behind
A crowd
Of sorrows

And stars
Begin to
Burn

Beginning
To feel
Dawn dew
Air,

Remembering
Harmless
Paper napkin
Ghosts.

I look
At my
Red heart
Pulse

Encountering
A fountain
Of Jesus’ blood.

I am aware
Of a weak
Force of evil

In rising oceans
And eyes
Like furnace
Doors.

I whisper
A hymn
Like a hex

And watch
Evil being
Locked in a coffin

Not covered
With roses,

And for
Awhile I feel
The pull
Of Divinity

And the
Temptation
Of sin

So I watch
A green sun
On the
Meadow

Of tears
While darkness
Spills
Across
The sky line.

But now,
I move
Into peace

Entering
A serene
City by the sea

As an
Angel
Locks
The door

Of the prison

Of blackness.

I am free.

 

 

Biography:

Rick Davis lives in  the Logan Square neighborhood of Chicago,  Illinois, USA., with his wife.  He is a graduate of Northeastern  Illinois University, and has completed graduate work at several schools.  He has worked in market research, and  in  several customer  service positions.

Download PAROUSIA Magazine Christmas Issue #4 pdf by following this link.

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