O ANTIPHONS for the Slightly Alive

O Great Consoler of spiking rage
O Wounded One tenderized like meat
	come graft me into
	the marrow of your pain
	that I might not be lost to my grief.

O Mixer of Medicines savory on my tongue
O Gardener of the body divine
	come sift me through the wisdom
	of your pestled leaves that I might
	warm at the press of your fingers.

O Great Sounder woofing o’er the hills
O Berry-Throated bleating in the fields
	come shake out the needles of
	dread staking claim that I might
	wear your wailing as a mercy.

O Bender of Branches crafting opportunity
O Carved Limb of oak taking shape
	come smile from the mantle of my
	stocking-dripped longing that my heart
	might be drawn with your image.

O Bringer of Blankets slaking deep shivers
O Cradler of Sleeping Ones not waking
	come shock me with your slow walking
	that I might know the brevity
	of weaker spells angling for the spotlight.

O Consumer of Creeping Things coiled in the shadows
O Sieve of Waking Schemes squeezed through cheesecloth
	come crush the jaw of the serpent’s
	maw that I might not
	sink beneath its bite.

O Bountiful Baker stretching and kneading
O Maestro forming risen lumps of dough
	come flour the surfaces
	never letting go that I might
	mark my failings with release.

Kelsi Folsom is a poet, opera singer, and graduate student making her home in NW Ohio with her husband and four kids. She is the author of four poetry collections, including forthcoming Beauty Still Lives Here (Kelsay Books, 2025), and has work published in Plough, Ekstasis, Anabaptist World, and elsewhere. Find her on IG @kelsifolsom.

To receive each new poem published by Wayfare, first subscribe to Wayfare and then click here to manage your subscription and select “Poetry.”