One of the signs of relying on one’s own deeds is the loss of hope when a downfall occurs.

— Al The Hikam of Ibn Ibn ‘Ata’illah
How to be honest about this? –
The mind with its revisionist self,

all intention & ego. You want to say
something about your heart, the soul,

faith or even Faith, but maybe
you begin before: those last months

in your poet house, hidden bottles &
boxes, drinking sprees in closets, stumbling

through city streets, the landscape
a blur that terrified in its familiar.

Your best friend in another city,
hometown of breweries & corner bars,

had been for years seeking solace
in church basements late nights,

work weeks, holidays. Her effervescence
could not be contained by rooms or steps.

Long distance you watched her swim
against that tide until exhausted, she let go.

After the funeral, you resolved to practice
until you believed. Five times prayer,

ebullience as default. How many times had
she said, “Hi my name is ____, & I am” –

& still, always already, thirsted for more.
To choose the buoy is not to say you can’t

swim. To wake before dawn, immerse
the body in water, kneel, & give thanks

is to say something about the body,
mind, your soul, memory—practicing

faith, at first counterintuitive,
is how to survive the riptide—

relax, move with the current, believe in
the existence of an imperceptible shore.

 

 

Kirsten Hemmy’s work of mine has previously appeared in Alaska Quarterly, Compose, Green Mountains Review, Cake Magazine, Comstock Review, Antiphon, Glass, Southern Humanities, and elsewhere. My first book, *The Atrocity of Water* was a Tom Lombardo selection published by Press 53 in 2010; my second book, written while I was a Fulbright Fellow in Senegal (2012-13) will be out next year. I’ve performed as a TedX speaker and have a long-standing mixed-media collaboration with the visual artist Antoine Williams. I currently live in the Sultanate of Oman, where I teach creative writing (and enjoy exploring the Gulf region).