A Plea at Galilee by Morgan Flodman
Methinks I’m the ocean sweeping my hand across the shore,
Or maybe I’m the river rushing against the cascade—
Rivers—oceans—I shall not let these bodies take my soul
Going forth into this dusty mound I’m merely part of,
A scruple of sand among masses of seraphic gold
Nodding towards heaven where the Sun makes clouds one with the sky.
Flowing endlessly ‘round the globe without breaking the tide
Lest fiendish winds toss the dust into a pyre underground,
Only crystalline water shall cleanse me of my gravest
Doubts, the brittle ground that keeps me from rising with the Sun—
My Lord, earthly as I may seem in the light of Thy face,
Allow a wave to wash over my grains of faith, for I
Need them condensed under Thy constantly luminous gaze.
Morgan Flodman is a young writer from Cherry Valley, Massachusetts. Her poetry has most recently appeared in The Apprentice Writer and Kalopsia Literary Journal and she has received honorable recognitions from the International Torrance Legacy Creativity Awards and the Scholastic Art & Writing Awards. When she's not overanalyzing her drafts, Morgan enjoys reading, editing, and spending time with her loved ones. Keep up with her literary endeavors on Instagram: @morganflodmanwrites