PROPHET I

it’s steep scree
a quick journey back down 
to dry plains
to a desperate mind—

this soul opened,
is starving

where is there raw grains
and heat

a clear river and 
new wine as the 
ancient words say?

this heart stood,
bared its courage—

spoke fire
shattering muddied glass
and marble walls 
so bodies could 
breathe

now where is Presence
with mighty wings

where is a Mother’s beak
that knows exactly how 
to feed?

PROPHET II

a small wing
sandy cries, suspended
echoes in endless air—

until, after sleep
feathers of grace

a beaded beak stoops low
to touch my mouth,

quick to fill
fresh loaves over new fire

singing brooks to 
my desert soil 
and skin—

earth and belly
still enough
to receive

the feast of
closer than
breath

Fran Westwood is an emerging Canadian poet writing from Toronto. She writes poems that help her pay attention, often on finding belonging and bridges in diverse landscapes.

Fran’s work has been published by Contemporary Verse 2, the Poetry Pub and For Women Who Roar. She has pieces forthcoming in Prairie Fire, Inanna's Canadian Women Studies journal and in a 2021 collection by Flying Ketchup Press.