Fortitude is the part of hope that will not let go.
And I will give thee the treasures of darkness,
and hidden riches of secret places . . .
— Isaiah 45:3, KJV
And God Called It Grit
I long to be peony or hydrangea perhaps a one-day lily
all that comes of digging & dividing bulbs & tubers
water yes there will be water wooing life not existence
but growth Lord let there be flowers
flaunting full-blown faith Even as sun steps back drops
winter onto terra Eden withers leveled & mashed
faded mums lay down hoary charm beauty flatted into dirt
all that remains a fiat for rake
and hoe And listen to wind hiss with furrowed brow &
folded hands truth squalls upon every secret
stem exposed decomposed kingdoms collapse
under the weight loathsome forsaken
I think of you Lord breathing over the rot smutch
of me and path of muck how a soul seeps deeper into the loam
and lies with fungi taciturn & holy slowly by slowly conceiving
sallow root tips as relatives Who would favor these
with sugar but you Lord Almighty
holding back the harrow as I braille through gloom
grasping for
the trailing threads of your heart
A note to the reader: In Susan Cowger’s poetry, extra spaces between words serve as the pauses that punctuation normally provides. Capital letters denote the beginning of a new sentence.
The featured image, “Glen Eyrie Oak Leaves in Autumn – 2023,” is courtesy of Lancia E. Smith and is used with her glad permission for Cultivating.
Poet and visual artist, Susan attends to image: water, sky, faces, flowers, and birds, oh the birds,
even rocks and pebbles, wherever beauty heals and anoints. Beauty ever provides when life feels
bereft. Susan has traveled to marvelous places worldwide and worked in Kenya with Spring of
Hope International. Now Susan and husband Dana live in Spokane WA. Married 47 years, they
have four children and 22 grandchildren (and yes, she finds that number rather shocking too).
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