Belly Poem

Poem a day for Lent, #5

at rest in a belly button,
I’m no bigger
than a grain of rice.

I’ve come to listen for Jesus.

But prayers are swallowed whole
like frozen grapes,
muted.

I sing
hymns by humming
in the shape of her body—
a distraction on this wilderness journey.

The lining in this cavern
is comfortable
but not safe.
a makeshift mattress
that is firm,
soft,
and it radiates
so that skin glows
with blood
rushing
to touch the air
with dream-like petitions.

Speak to me, Jesus.
There is no time to lose—

These half-susurrations,
as moist
as throat-air,
at least we’re allowed this.

I think that God says:
the journey from this point is long
and arduous,
but you may sleep
in my belly button
when you’re tired.