God whispers

I wonder if it hurts to

          be the beautiful Breck Girl?

To walk in patent leather stilettos,

Hair bouncing erotically on a dirty

city breeze,

Hometown girl made good.


I wonder if it hurts to be transformed

          reborn to soaring wings,

Emerging to unfold wet, curled weak


Drying in  summer’s brief gift of



I wonder if it hurts to be loved?


I wonder if it hurts to have another

needing to be near,

To brush another’s face as they sleep

beside you,

To flutter with pleasure in response

to another’s brush?

I wonder if it hurts to be me?

To remember a dream I never was,

To make snowflakes for Christmas

And paper doll cutouts for garlands?


  I wonder if it hurts to be still and be


To hear God’s whispers on a blue tin

roof in the

Deafening roar of the world swirling

about the house?


            Devora (May ’08) adds, “I’ve had a hard time hearing God’s whispers and always felt I couldn’t hear until God shouted. I want to be more attentive to the whispers of God.”

* a poem from the June 2009 edition of Ninepatch *

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