Wild Acolyte by Jenny Beldame
Wild Acolyte
Jenny Beldame
If my body is a temple
I am its priest
I will offer it the strongest grains
my grandfathers did not farm the land
for me to starve
I will pluck the ripest, juiciest fruits
and serve them in golden bowls
to this body
my mothers did not give me a full belly
for me to remain barren
For this temple
I will sacrifice the fattest calves
my uncles did not drive the steers
for my bones to require a scaffold
I shall wash this temple in abundant flora
from verdant forests
my aunts did not teach the medicines
for me to fall ill
This temple will glisten with fragrant oils
from the lushest groves
my fathers did not fell the trees
for me to not feel home
I shall adorn this temple in the finest flax and silks
my grandmothers did not weave their fingers numb
creating wonderful garments
for my skin to chap in the wilderness
I shall glorify this temple
for this body is a testament
of perseverance and triumph
the love and glory
of time eternal
More from Jenny Beldame ↓
- @jennybeldame on Instagram
- Jenny Beldame on Substack
Mentioned in this episode:
One Poem Only submissions are open.
This round, I’m looking for poems about what remains. What stays with us when we experience change? What survives? What do we yearn to carry forward? Send me the poem you wrote and want the world to hear. Also, if you’d like to read your own poem on the podcast, you can. Submit a clear audio file recorded in a quiet space—no perfect studio recording required. And yes, your poem can have been previously published in a literary magazine, in print, or on social media. Submissions close Thursday, October 29. I’ll respond by Wednesday, November 11. Whether I read your poem or you read it yourself, I’d love to hear what you have to share.
