Lord if you had been here my brother
If you had been here my brother
If you had been here
some light would not have been here, or some light would have—
some right, some body set aright, some upright body with its light on.
If you were here—my brother might be


If I can name every thing, who will you take from my side?
If I can see everything and find no rest—what will you do for me then?
Your patience like a strap around my neck


Let me sit at your feet.
Let me be your eyes, or let me have them—the deepest iris of the iris,
give me whatever darkness, or give me what brightens—
In this way, I rest my eyes upon your face,
even when you do not speak.


I am afire says the—
Where will I go?
In me, says the flame.

E. J. García is a priest in the Episcopal Church, part of the Anglican Communion. Her poems have been published by the Poetry Society of America as the chapbook Your Bright Hand, and in these pages. She lives and works in Boston.

Also by this author

Please email comments to [email protected] and join the conversation on our Facebook page.

Published in the June 16, 2017 issue: View Contents
© 2024 Commonweal Magazine. All rights reserved. Design by Point Five. Site by Deck Fifty.