Poetry by John Hicks
If I were called in
to construct a religion
I would not.
I’d seek it in whispers.
Whispers have no need
for colonnaded liturgy
or trebly assertions
to splash in vaulted space.
Think of the heart,
its whispers of communion
pulsing in its chambers.
To hear it in its quiet,
we bend as though to pray.
Or reflections of pools,
how their prayers pull
down the sky—
even those nights
it’s hardest to see.
The sound of that dove
reaching across the junipers
seeking another
in shadows of daybreak,
in the silent places.
After Philip Larkin’s “Water”
About the Poet
John Hicks is an emerging poet: has been published or accepted for publication by: Valparaiso Poetry Review, I-70 Review, Ekphrastic Review, Glint Literary Journal, Midnight Circus,Bangor Literary Journal, Mojave River Review, Vita Brevis, and others.
Love the imagery that you use to describe the essence of religion.