Rachel Orta
Two Pieces
Fool’s Spring Benediction
Pearlescent sheen, ice
a sheet, holy laid atop
communion cup. Glossed over
as lips slick with praise,
Spring’s arrival to service
will be late. Under blanket of white
struggles to shake itself awake,
or bloom fully yet
from the garden bed.
Altar of wintertide a slush mountain
erect, encircled by a moat of grime
soaked hoary wet. Streets lined
in offering, coins of salt in donation
of warmth or melt.
Birth announcement
before congregation is broadcast,
first robin’s egg, before color
is ushered to sky,
satin blue filling in pews of gray.
Sun prays until beads of sweat break
over branches of evergreen
and emaciated trees.
Each year this ritual
monotony, Spring goes on
interrupting. Wild preacher
proclaiming pastel
shades, coming to in vigor, Violets
to baptize the greenery,
Rose, to clothe
by way of thorns, sinners
in sacred sensation
Lilac sprigs
as fireworks, bursting mid-air,
sky-reaching each petal
to cloud in prayer.
With an invocation of divine
words to Winter, Spring
preaching vitality,
bestows a closing blessing,
declares Amen.
My Non-Flower Elements
Flower, compiled
Of petal, lust-er,
Muse, moon, myth
Cosmos come to respire,
Perfumed by universe, tittle of mineral
Orchid of my tale, a rorschach -
Of marbled lake air
Of my mother’s pained hands
Of my grandmother’s pained hands
Of cereal, almond milk, half a banana
Of drops of chlorine and old lady spit
Of light overcast
Of rush, as if forever would grow limbs and vanish
Of leaves, yellowed, asking as I, to be crushed
Of river running glorious, never weighted same twice
Of non-flower things, feigning petals
Of pursed lips
Of poetry
Rachel Orta (she/her) is from Milwaukee, WI. She makes a habit of conversing with Lake Michigan and telling the deer her secrets. A list of her recent publications and links to social media can be found here - https://linktr.ee/RachelOrta