Saturday The first day of my virtual Online zoomed Oh so very post-pandemic Centering prayer retreat Was interrupted for me From noon to five When I played bridge With my mother And two friends Our weekly gift To a 98 year old Who is still as keen If not still quite as sharp Bridge and wine Beef stew and a thanksgiving prayer Family and friends And many repeated words For Mom Whose hearing aids - She often calls them ear plugs Never seem to work quite good enough Goodbyes and hugs Dishwasher loaded Hands in soapy water With pots and pans And Mom’s silver gravy spoon Outside the kitchen window Though it is dark now I see our trellis Beautifully burdened with Carolina jasmine Our towering, shaggy spruce Behind our newly planted Japanese maple And the faint glow from Mom’s Blessed Virgin Mary statue - Survivor of Hurricane Katrina Snuggled into our garden Between the shed and trellis In front of the azalea That will bloom astonishing deep red For crown and cloak Come spring Did I really miss Centering prayer Or did I simply live it?
poems
Love Now
Four year old Milo enters Already chattering Like an impatient blackbird My mother calls from upstairs And begins her complaint As I am still mounting the stairs Our dog gets restless Waiting for her morning treat And almost murmurs her feed me bark The stack of mail to be dealt with Yells at my eyes Every time I look at the side table The laundry basket With the lid that won’t quite close The dirty dishes in the sink The empty bookcase waiting to be moved The bathroom to clean The baker’s rack to paint The new towels to order All shout, demanding attention While Woody waits patient Though the morning grows long And I still hide in the bedroom Reading, writing, praying, dozing Regrets and hopes Wants and needs Past and future Scream, “Pay attention to me” If I am not careful I will miss the quiet entrance And soft speech Of Love now
More Than Alright
I couldda done better I shouldda done better I wouldda done better Were I a different I Or you a different you Or this world, that world or the universe infolding instead of unfolding But I want this I And this you Most definitely this you And we are stuck with this Particular world And this unfolding universe So I decide no I really couldn’t have done better And that is more than alright
A Weird Man
There was a man Who just didn’t care About sin He said he knew God Claimed he spoke for God Yet he didn’t pay any attention To who was good and who was bad (Proving, at least, That he was not Santa Claus) He ignored equally The rulers of his religion And conquerors of his nation He refused to worry About anything That he should have worried about He loved to welcome people Teach them Help them Feed them Protect them Heal them He didn’t like the big expensive temple He didn’t like the priests He didn’t even like the best educated people He never seemed to have much ambition He never settled down He wandered around Saying strange things Doing outrageous things I can’t help but wonder how he would feel About the church that is the legacy He never seemed to want
Like Mary
When Woody smiles at me And says You did that so well, so gently When my 4-year-old grandson Offers me a handful of blue sticky gummies When my 98-year-old mother Says thank you When my across-the-street neighbor Sends me his photograph of the sunrise When I remember to water the windowsill plants When I listen to Gregorian chant Or Tibetan rhythms Or June Boyce Tillman’s performances When I bake bread Or wash dishes My hands deep in warm soapy water And my mind about as still as it ever gets When I write a poem When I share a poem Ah, then, like Mary Oliver I feel quite beautiful
Early Morning Prayer
The fox does not know How to live Except in the moment The tree does not mourn Summer nor Long for spring The wave does not resent The shore Where it dies The sky does not conquer The earth To grasp more for itself The sun does not fear Setting As the earth spins The moon does not cling To full And refuse to wane Let me live Now Not then nor maybe Let me rejoice Knowing Not fearing death Let me welcome The new shore While enjoying the deep sea Let me share As the sky Shares rain with the earth Let me lighten My world Though sunset nears Let me wane Even as I have waxed Through days and years Let me feel the rhythm The eternal renewal Of each new now Of fox and tree Wave and sky Sun and moon In peace So may it be For me
Good Morning
What is this feeling? How do I name it? As I lie here In the early pre-dawn Woody gently snoring Beside me And the white noise machine Making waves I woke to a realization Of a necessary task Forgotten I had not set up Mom’s breakfast … I move Through the dark Turn on minimal lights Quiet…slow now…slow Hush…no need for hurry Bowl, spoon, cereal To the table Shush…slow Soft through the still air Milk into the small bottle Meant for salad dressing Why this contented sigh As I fix the prune juice mixture? My hands flow in a slow ballet My body ripples through the air Making only small disturbances Nature’s asanas Kitchen yoga Mom’s breakfast is set now I’m back in bed Under the quilt Ruth made Writing as Woody gently snores How shall I name this slow quiet Feeling that fills my chest Almost heavy Quilt heavy…not stone heavy This feeling that is as easy with sorrow as with joy… with memories as with dreams. This feeling of loving myself… of gratitude for my life, sadness about mistakes wonderment about achievements contentment expectation joy This divine feeling hush now… quiet… soft Good morning, friends
Wondrous Coward
There exists a poem At least I think it is a poem With the lines “The coward dies a thousand deaths The valiant die but once” Or something close to that I have lived your death too many times I am a total coward Not for myself But for myself without you Sometimes in the night I wake up and lie Fearfully still Until I hear you breathe Sometimes, like now, When you are napping Because you “just didn’t feel quite right” I have to resist the urge To go into the bedroom To check that you are just sleeping Not dead Like when my children were babies That dreadful fear That my heart and life My sanity itself Will break into a thousand shards And cut my soul to shreds Should you have stopped breathing Your love has made of me A wondrous coward
God’s COMPASSION
Come with Me On this year’s journey Mindful of My love Pausing often As we meet in silence Self to self Soul to soul Invest in others Open your heart Never fear
Annunciation
I imagine a young girl Who today might be excited To start high school. I imagine a young girl Who back then was excited To be betrothed. She was a good girl Far from perfect But plenty good enough A pretty girl Far from stunning But plenty pretty enough A devout girl Far from saintly But plenty devout enough A happy girl Far from trouble-free But plenty happy enough A loved girl Far from worshipped But plenty loved enough A simple girl Far from stupid But just a simple girl Who looked forward to marriage And, please God, making babies With her young husband Until she became a surprised girl “Full of grace” God’s messenger said What could that mean? Then Gabriel explained And Mary of Nazareth Became Theotokos. But Gabriel left Returning to God’s glory Leaving her to explain The unexplainable Unimaginable miracle That would look like sin And the pregnant virgin Fled to her cousin Elizabeth the barren Who was also with child.
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