The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa

By ANNIE SCHUMACHER

I’ve never been content with less than
God. Visions

like interior castles:
a red and white blanket
over grass, broken
slabs of tile, folded denim
in a fishing boat, sand-gold
grains of rice, all the colors
that tint a bruise—

It is as if I were seeing time
or the whole story I once knew
laid across the altarpiece of my mind,
as piercing and startlingly beautiful
as the glance of the beloved.

And I see the world suddenly in its true form:
God has no body other than mine.
I could begin to become it.

 

[Purchase Issue 30 here.]

 

Annie Schumacher is a poet, writer, and translator. Her work can be found in The London Magazine, Poet Lore, Poetry London, California Quarterly, and elsewhere.

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa

Related Posts

Sasha Burshteyn: Poems

SASHA BURSHTEYN
The slagheap dominates / the landscape. A new kurgan / for a new age. High grave, waste mound. / To think of life / among the mountains— / that clean, clear air— / and realize that you’ve been breathing / shit. Plant trees / around the spoil tip! Appreciate / the unnatural charm! Green fold, / gray pile.

New York City skyline

Lawrence Joseph: New Poems

JOSEPH LAWRENCE
what we do is // precise and limited, according to / the Minister of Defense, // the President / is drawing a line, // the President is drawing / a red line, we don’t want to see 

rebecca on a dock at sunset

Late Orison

REBECCA FOUST
You & I will grow old, Love, / we have grown old. But this last chance // in our late decades could be like the Pleiades, winter stars seen by / Sappho, Hesiod & Galileo & now by you & me.