Resisting Metaphor

Resisting Metaphor

Resisting Metaphor

Jacob Stratman

After reading Jennifer Fueston Stewart, after listening to Mark Jarman, after running 

 

Is it true:  poetry is a gesture inward,  
and prayer a gesture outward?
  
The poet seems sure in the interview  
I listen to on an early morning  
run, with sunrise beginning  
to bounce life off haystacks, the color  

of campfire marshmallows, color 
like these fallow fields, welcoming me inward, 
green coming to focus as day begins  
to begin, and I’m stuck, neither in an outward 
posture or accepting the invitation this morning 
to reflect, intimate, or withstand an interview. 

But what would the field ask if this were an interview? 
How would the haystacks respond to the color 
I choose to give them on this early morning 
run?  Must the metaphor always seep inward? 
Does the sun care whether prayer is outwardly 
gestured? O’Connor suggests ignorance is the beginning 

of faith. I remember, once, standing creek side, beginning 
to wonder, when I scared a bird just in view,  
a black crowned night heron—the outward 
expression of surprise and fear; the color 
of attention; another invitation inward; 
a symbol I ignored respectfully that morning. 

It wasn’t big, like hawks, the color of mourning, 
I see on wires above county roads, beginning 
their day in lament.  Although I resist inward 
movement of any kind these days, any interview 
with myself, especially on these discolored 
roads I run, I know I’m invited outward, 

to see birds and haystacks, outwardly 
themselves on any given morning, 
but the memory of those heron’s wings—working to color 
everything for me, setting its self in flight, beginning 
their motion before its body could begin an interview 
with its own wings, even as I deflect (reflect?) inward— 

urges prayer inward and outward— 
asks me to interview the morning, 
its beginning, my beginning, perhaps: a new color.


Jacob Stratman
Poet & Educator

Jacob’s What I Have I Offer With Two Hands is a part of the Poiema Poetry Series (Cascade, 2019). His most recent poems can be found (or forthcoming) in The Christian Century, Wordgathering, FreezeRay, Ekprhastic Review, among others. He lives and teaches in Siloam Springs, AR.

Photography by Beyza Kaplan