One Poem

by Maggie E. Woodlock

Beneath the Pavement

There is a waterfall underneath a church in Manhattan 
An endless stream of springs 
An island of catacombs 
How many histories lie buried
The street corner oracle hears the whispers 
Of a thousand voices 
There is earth beneath the pavement 
He shouts
There is life beneath the ground 
The sound hits the crashing
Crumbling hum
And reverberates into nothing 
The water rushes along 
The island turns 

There is a church in Manhattan 
With a well so deep
Lost labyrinth of waterways
Divine secrets
And holy tales 
The rock holds its breath
And the tombs float
I know of a church
Of sacred places 
Scattered among the ruin 
And the bustle
Of water, rock, and earth
Yet I know no man
Divine above the rest

Maggie is a New England based writer from New York. Locally, she studies the grieving rituals of contemporary Western witches and explores spaces for communing with the dead. Her poems include themes of nature, impermanence, and sacred experiences.