PHYSICIAN HEAL THYSELF
Let me take the p and shove its dowager’s hump of a back through the hole.
Then follows the o.
I’ll pop it through the opening like a grape.
It will make a sound like the suck of air after the opening of a jar.
Next is the e.
I’ll shove it in and up hoping that the little tail at the end of the turtle shell does not get caught.
At last I will back up to the m and push its washboard shoulders through the hole.
Strung with letters my needle does its work.
Thimble tips stroke the page, protecting the lily white paper.
Piercing and piecing remnants of soul tatters,
my nimble fingers thread a poem, suture a wound.
Author’s Comments: This poem had its genesis in the last line. I also liked the idea of making a poem a literal, animate object. Imagery played a big part here. As poets we cobble together our observations, experiences and impressions and give them new form, as in a new garment. Hopefully the result is something that ministers to the soul. Often, we are agents of our own healing.