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Alchemy at Sunrise

by Paula Bowser

It was a crowcaw,
moonwane morning,
angel breath
just behind my shoulders,
fogfelt feathers
hushed me, brushed me.

Coppertoast timothy
lay bailed and bronzed in the fields,
shaved from the earth's breast
a crusty stubble left. She
shocked and shorn
in sacred mourn-ing, She
called me, mauled me,
marked me for Her own
for the day,
for the coming year.

She made me see,
wrapped in the hairy sheaves
(flaxen scrolls
and jellyrolls
blonde bandages, all wrapped tight
sleeping
bagged against the coming cold).
She made me see
Mystery.

The queen could not,
the king could not,
but She
(dis-guised as Sunray bold)
fired the straw
to harvest gold.

Paula Bowser is pastor of the Glade Valley Church of the Brethren in Walkersville MD. Her passion is poetry. She and her husband, Tom, live in Nokesville VA. Tom and Paula have a daughter, Laura, 14 and a son, David, 17.

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