From “Giornata: On Faith”

11.
The swear jar isn’t empty. Full of flowers
instead of coins it makes a cursed bouquet
of love-me-nots, a tangled vine of credit
extended to one most likely to default.
Such a trifling bargain, flowers for mercy.
O Nature, predatory lender!
Risk is the commuter bus I ride between damnation
and wonder. Stitch my wounds loosely. Give me chastity,
O Lord, says the Berber Saint,
for miracle and sin are kindred. Each is hatched
from a broken law.

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“‘Giornata’ translates roughly to ‘a day’s work.’ Although the poems in this series were not written in a day, they represent the daily practice and attention that faith requires. Each section addresses faith in a different context. The speaker in section eleven contemplates what it means to repair or restore faith in a relationship after that faith has been compromised.”
—Gregory Pardlo