When he breathes
life into the dove,
the audience hushes,
inhales its own logic.
We are suspended
in a sphere of silent
what ifs, gravity’s truths
falling along this curved
theater, atoms banging
against the walls
of our encircled awe,
when, for a moment,
belief flaps softly
above our heads
and perches.
***
January Pearson lives in Southern California with her husband and two daughters. She teaches in the English department at Kaplan University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Gargoyle Magazine, Atlanta Review, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, Watershed Review, Summerset Review, Four Chambers Press, Timberline Review, The Chiron Review, The Mockingheart Review, and Modern Haiku.
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