The Living, the Living

The Living, the Living

Abigail Ham

Meditation on the Canticle of Hezekiah

Rubber bracelets worn smooth by sweat recount
the bitterness of years
of all my years to you,
from the bitterness of my soul:

these bruise-streaks from the blue dye leaking
up my arms, this too-sweet residue
of my generation, these stamped-into-rubber, to remember, names wilting
while I was yet beginning.

I sought the Lord
in the land of the living and strained my eyes
peering up.
But the living, the living;

the life of my spirit be in such things as these:
that the bluebird, spotting her kin on my skin,
sings to the Lord. And in the evening she weeps
to give you praise, as I do

this day. I turned my eyes from the dust
and filled my head with the dirges
of the stones crying O Lord,
save us from these footsteps you made.

In the house of the Lord
I heard them wailing;
psalms of lament
for the living, the living.

---

Abigail Ham
Poet & Student

Abigail is a student at Calvin University, studying writing and political science. She's originally from backwoods Vermont and still enjoys maple syrup and skiing. Her writing has appeared in the Blue Lake Review.

Photography by Eberhard Grossgasteiger