Law pulled my eyes up to God
Somewhere above sky and stars
Beyond sun and Milky Way
Greater than greater
Stronger than strong
Longer than long
Giving the law
That we must follow
To reach his high exalted throne

Law pushed my eyes down on myself
And on others
We sin, venial and mortal
Close to worthless
We fail, time and again
To follow our high Father’s perfect law

It is hard to love
When you feel worthless
Hard to love
When you feel unworthy
Hard to love
When you look down
On being human

Love, oh love
Set my eyes straight
Taught me to look at flowers
Trees, bees, grass, dogs, fireflies
Love held me still
When the black snake 
Slithered
Into our small pond
When the dragonfly
Flew 
Across the back porch
When Woody 
Pressed 
My face to his chest

(“Ada’s poem” refers to Ada Limon’s poem, What It Looks Like To Us And The Words We Use”)

My morning question
Often
“What does God look like to me today?”

Once
(Seems like a long time ago in a galaxy far far away)
The image of God
Came easily
An old bearded man
Finger outstretched
To create, yes
But also to blame
And to damn

All-knowing
All-seeing
(try mediating on THAT as you sit on the toilet)
Quick to condemn

Sacrificing His own Son
In His thirst for justice
(Or was it jealous vengeance)

The perfect son
Of the perfect mother
Both virginal
Both suffering
Both lonely
Exalted
Impossible role models

And the Holy Spirit to complete that triune God
Later I learned this theological nonsense:
The Father’s knowledge of Himself is the Son
The love between Father and Son is the Holy Spirit

The best thing about this
In the theology of the Catholic Church
Is that no woman is necessary
No desire, no lust
No messy menstruation
No messier childbirth
All clean, neat, sterile
Masculine

…

Then, for years
I knew the Goddess
First as part of that Trinity
But more and more
On her own
Her own trinity
Virgin, Mother, Crone
Adventurer, nurturer, wise woman

Now my answer more often
Resembles Ada’s poem
Divinity is the name I give
To the supernatural immanence
Of this gloriously natural world
To Gaia, to humanity 
To the eternity questing of my own spirit

Just imagine
For one moment
A day of atonement

One day
Each year

What would my life be
I wonder

With a day of atonement
Each year

Well, to start, maybe
I would only have 364 days
Of regrets

No need, perhaps
To carry still
65 years later
That stupid mistake
That angered Sister Rosemarie

No need, perhaps
To carry still
56 years later
That stupid mistake
That angered my parents

No need, perhaps
To carry still
47 years later
Those stupid mistakes
That ended my marriage

No need, surely
For indulgences
Worth centuries in Purgatory

No need for weekly repeated
Forgive me, Father, 
For I have sinned

Atonement
Such a restful possibility
Such a sure foundation
For tomorrow

I swim through the universe 
As it shapes itself around me
Holding me close

As it shapes around
A pebble
A blade of grass
An ant
An elephant
A mountain

As fish swim
Through the ocean
Hugged so close
That the waters
Ripple around their bodies 

So we swim
Through the universe
Hugged so close
That space
Ripples around us

These ripples
Where I meets I
Ah, these ripples
These I_s
Surely
Create divinity

Easy to taste
Lingering long
In the 4 year old’s shout
“Baba, watch me dive!”

In September sunshine
Warming my skin

In quiet meditation
Breathing long quiet breaths

In prayerful gratitude
For many privileges

But sweetness also
Subtle and fleeting

In answering querulous demands
Of my aged mother

In bowing to insistent demands
Of my own aging body

In treading patiently
Through crowded shops

In confused dreams
Of those long dead

Elusive sweetness
Hard as rock candy

Sticky as honey
Stinging as the guardian bee

Bittersweetness
Knowing
That life is not always sweet

Without bitterness
Without effort
Will we recognize sweetness
In eternity?

Storm memories surge
Drowning all song
Except the mermaid’s dirge

17 years ago
New Orleans drowned
Silenced for months
Streets deserted
Trees toppled
Roofs broken

The well-meaning psychiatrist
Said turn off the TV
Do something else
Think something else
Listen to a different song
While your city
Blackens
Drowns
Beneath the hurricane’s
Fierce cacophony

My mother’s china
My sister’s kitchen
My niece’s wedding presents

The joyous jazz strains of our lives
Drowned to silence
Umbrellas blown inside out
As we second line our way back
After our city went black

Grief – when it comes to sit next to me
Sits lightly
Holds my hand as I quietly breathe
Thanksgiving for having had – for a time
That which I now grieve.

Queen Elizabeth died
Long live the King
Through ten days
Through pagentry mourning
Grief sits quietly by my side

Good grief!
A dog named grief
Performs obediently
Her latest learned trick
Good grief!

Ah, grief, you are a good kind friend
As your presence presses against me
I see more clearly, listen more closely
Speak more quietly
You are a welcome friend

Until, until, until
You move over to sit on me
Not satisfied with my lap
You move to my chest
You tie down my limbs
Your ungentle paws cover my eyes
Your droning howl fills my hearing

Jealous companion
You would have me ignore
Everything that is not grief
You would bury me
Beneath stones of silence
You would castrate my memory
Removing its life-giving force
You would bind my energy
Trap me in dark silence
Brooding

Bad grief
Bad dog
Down, grief, down
Sit beside me
Lie at my feet
Accept my attention
My caresses
But set me free
Of your iron maiden

What need has the world
For a 74 year old worker
Who has few skills
Beyond the kitchen and computer

Unlike Woody
My 76 year old husband
I have no horticultural skills
Long years with plants
Have failed to turn my thumbs green

Unlike Lorraine
My 98 year old mother 
I have no needlework dexterity
Long years of crochet and knit
Have failed to turn my hands nimble

On my wall hang certificates
 Testimonies to my career

Scattered across the continent
Live my children and grandchildren
Testimonies to my mothering

But those are all past now

I remain caretaker
Bread baker
Divinity seeker
Poem writer

I have been given the grace
Of three quarters of a century
To learn my unmerited worth
To learn to love myself
Divinely
Generously
Deeply
Without measurement

Apparently it has not yet been quite enough.

For long years I believed in God
Old, white, male, Christian god

Once I believed in the supernatural 
Angels, devils, heaven, hell, the eternal supernatural

Back then I believed in God’s forgiving grace
Thorns, whips, nails, cross earning our grace

Now, I know no god, but sometimes see a Goddess
Maiden, mother, crone, Gaia goddess

Now, I know only the here and now natural
(Supernatural being but the unusual natural)
Earth, sky, love, hate, the world natural

Now, I believe in creation as divine grace
Love being but another word for grace