ceremonial

by Jonathan Chan

flames lick the air of easter,
held to the point
of dew. each papered grief
now of ash and cinder. a
diary entry. an angry poem.
a forlorn letter of
farewell. years swirl in
a vortex. we remember
the tactility and numbness,
the whiplash and pressure,
the stagnation and coiled muscle.
our cloistered bodies breathe:
what’s come has gone.
the garden rustles in a
nonchalance. the fire shoots
like an organ’s swell before it
is doused
in a smother.
a vigil remembers
what it is that we bear and
learn to hold for
each other.

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Jonathan Chan is a writer and editor. Born in New York to a Malaysian father and South Korean mother, he was raised in Singapore and educated at Cambridge and Yale Universities. He is the author of the poetry collection going home (Landmark, 2022) and managing editor of poetry.sg. His poetry and essays have appeared in Ekstasis, Fathom, Inheritance, The Yale Logos, Poems for Ephesians, and the Ethos Institute for Public Christianity. More of his writing can be found at jonbcy.wordpress.com.