Revisionist Poetry – I knew a God…, v3: A more narrative version

Before I knew a god there was a river,
its pulse a promise. I moved toward that cadence;
the lark took the promise in its throat
and gave me a first, clear song.

Before I knew a god there was a star,
spilling small iron-lit pages across the dark.
I read until the night turned colour —
no hand stopped me from keeping the last line.

Before I knew a god there was a rose,
its breath a lesson in arriving. I cupped the scent,
and fate — not mine to pluck — left the dew
like an offering at the mouth of morning.

Before I knew a god there was a thorn:
I learned that ache could be a doorway.
Migraine or martyr, the pain unlatched the ribs,
and at that slow, sharp opening life and I met.