Sarah SaraiSt. Sarah Sarai Carrying the Infant Christ ChildCreeping, is what a saffron sun is doing, creeping out from a past it will soon revisit. I hike my blood-red tunic to my thighs with one hand while the other, well, in my arms, well, always a child, always delivered to us in indrawn- infant stillness, as if creation holds its breath because, really, all this is over so much too soon. Isn’t making art remembering what we knew? Why not, then, salvation? The water over rocks cold on granite— quartz and orthoclase—and slick moss. I’m the last person who should be entrusted to carry Him, me of the angry sinner school. And I would forswear sainthood and irony, I would, for this one, held against my heart. In response to: Saint Christopher and the Infant Christ, Follower of Dieric Bouts (Netherlandish, ca. 1480). http://www.aug.edu/augusta/iconography/december2001/christopher.html
Sarah Sarai's likes to stare at art. She has poems in The Minnesota Review, The Threepenny Review, PANK, Terrain.org, The Columbia Review, Main Street Rag and others; and fiction in journals including Weber Studies, South Dakota Review and VerbSap.com. Visit her at www.myspace.com/sarahsarai. | 