The specter blazed
and found her at the well.
Blinded, she fled,
darted down an alley, stumbled,
water sloshing from the urn.
The angel overtook her,
uttered sweet verse into her small, curvature of ear;
and Mary grasped what he meant to say,
nodded, and returned to the well,
O specter, muse,
come dazzle me
with other-worldly light.
Trip me, knock me down,
dump my pan of dishwater words;
open my fleshy lobes
to your whisper, pure and piercing as a flute,
so that I might hear and comprehend your dispatch,
and begin again.
Teresa H. Janssen
This poem first appeared at Cathexis Northwest Press.
Teresa H. Janssen has an M.A. in Linguistics from the University of Washington. She was a finalist in Bellingham Review's Annie Dillard creative nonfiction contest and her essay, 'My Fifth Sense', was named a notable American essay for 2018 (Solnit & Atwan). Her prose and poetry have appeared in Anchor Magazine, Zyzzyva, Tiferet, Lunch Ticket, Dos Gatos Press and Cathexis Northwest Press, among other publications. She can be found online at: www.teresahjanssen.com. Teresa is presently living in Kampala, Uganda.
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