The Lumberjack

An excerpt from Sanctuary

Sanctuary: A book of essays on faith (with some romantic poetry mixed in) 

By Alexandra Berrocal

I

Dream of

Red hair and

Soft green eyes. 

The eyes of my mother.

I have dreamed of her for

Decades upon decades and

Centuries upon centuries.  I paint

Her because she is clear when all fades.

The one thing I reliably recall.

She walks into the front door of my space

I feel like she has entered myself

And with every painting she sees

She gazes into my soul.

A soul that’s filled with her.

For time after time

I look at her

And feel I

Collapse 

In.

Graphic by Griffin Mancuso
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