Halloween Sonnet Contest: A Private Prayer After a Funeral Sermon on the Afterlife, J-T Kelly

J-T Kelly is an innkeeper in Indianapolis. He lives in a brick house with his wife and six children, his two parents, and a dog.

A Private Prayer After a Funeral Sermon on the Afterlife

I can’t believe it’s right to be so certain.
I mean, there’s faith. I have a little of that.
But what do you see behind your holy curtain?
Is it all hollow like a magician’s hat?
I hope instead it’s more like the tide, or breath:
something that comes and comes again and brings
with it the body, the odor, of birth, of death;
something that weeps and roars and speaks and sings.
Or maybe there is no curtain. I know a story:
a darkness, fear and hiding, a field of blood;
but also roasted fish, perfume, and seeds.
You’re not a businessman, are you? Your glory
isn’t a balanced ledger. Aren’t you mud—
like me—that has to ask for what it needs?


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