Margery Kempe by Jennifer A. McGowan

Three Drops from a Cauldron

Margery Kempe

You, creature, laughed at life,
rollicked in bed, gave birth to
fourteen children and a genre.

You yearned for less, knew the blackness of
the months post-partum, men’s lack
of care. Saved by your visions, you bought
your chastity, pacted with your husband
under the cross; changed your wide bed for
the uncertainty of foreign linens. Ecstatic pilgrim, your
tears were rivers that traversed continents.
You hit all the hotspots, bent knee to every saint,
insisted on your holiness. Creature, society doubted,
locked you up, but your heart strengthened in
solitude. Unfettered, unlettered, you bent men’s
fingers to the page, knew the value of your words.

How we read them, dream
of a heart beyond bearing.


*Highly Commended in Manchester Cathedral Competition 2015, and printed in their prize booklet.

Despite being certified as disabled at age 16, Jennifer A. McGowan has published poetry and prose prolifically on both…

View original post 53 more words

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: