As I walked out of the subway exit,
I thought I heard prayers
the kind that would seep out of
stained glass windows
in the Old City of Jerusalem,
serenading the doves and stray cats.
I envisioned the prayers
scribbled on notes
clutched in siddurs
running through thoughts
fighting to take flight,
like an eagle soaring
east through soundwaves,
waving a wave of energy
blessing her thoroughly.
But then I realized it was just
the wind tunnel
funneling unaddressed messages
that had become mute and impotent,
yet howling the unspeakable,
pushing them from our parched lips,
filling us with the hope of the unutterable word,
but like a mediator, failing to mediate
the prayers fall
into a lifeless heap of leaves,
forming a vacuum that inhales our souls
into a brown paper bag that chokes us.
What of the prayers, you ask?
Maybe they were stolen
because they just aren’t moving,
they just aren’t churning
but strewn across the sand,
like sea creatures feeding
at the bottom of The Red Sea,
unable to spell Peace.
*siddur: Hebrew word for a Jewish prayer book
Deliverance is one of the poems featured in Soberano-Wilson’s forthcoming debut chapbook Casa de mi Corazón: A Travel Journal of Poetry & Memoir (Poetica). Follow her on Medium, Instagram, or Twitter @PoetryMatters. Lindsay Soberano-Wilson © 2021.
A summary and an excerpt from the chapbook are available here: