Without beginning or end: a poem by Nadine Ellsworth-Moran

doves, image by Huu Luu, on Pixabay, modified

Without beginning or end

I am slow to ascend,

pick my way past cacti

& pinyon pine, scrubby plants

with flowers that demand

little rain. Near the summit

I hear a bird sing to itself,

its call echoes off the canyon—

raven is witness to the seasons,

now cold and dry, the wind pulls

at my scarf as I take in the mesa.

I walk into the echo, let it find

my bones, reverberate. I am

a high desert plant, I shed petals

with each step, don’t dare speak,

much less sing—I hold feathers

in my teeth, listen for sky and stone,

for God to find me. I open my mouth,

a flock of prayers take flight.

Nadine Ellsworth-Moran serves in ministry

in Georgia. She is fascinated by the stories

unfolding all around her and seeks to bring

everyone into conversation around a common

table. Her work has appeared in Emrys,

Theophron, Thimble, Pensive, and Ekstasis,

among others. She lives with her husband

and five unrepentant cats.

June 2025 issue