If you want peace in the world, be peace. Thich Nhat Hanh

I am become her Hamas
She, my Israel
How is it that we are family
To all others
Yet enemies to each other
Launching blame like bombs

Though it seem pure hubris
Blind, self-centered hubris
To abrogate to our petty fight
The horror of this new old war
Yet this is the only way
I can begin to grasp
The terrifying reality of grievances
That barricade love
And murder forgiveness

I cannot judge the world harshly
Without knowing myself
Part of the holocausts we create.

Does summer begrudge spring its newness?
Does autumn envy summer its brightness?
Does winter covet autumn’s crispness?
Does spring resent winter’s cold?

Ah, no -
Nature is not that foolish.

Summer knows
There is no brightness without new birth.
Autumn knows
There is no crispness with bright growth.
Winter knows
There is no cold without crisp color.
Spring knows
There is no rebirth without cold death.

Ah, yes
Only humans are so foolish

To begrudge the other
To envy the different
To covet the younger
To resent the strange

To divide life into seasons
And worth into measures

I live now.

I live now.
But I worry about the past and the future.

I live now,
But I worry. About the past and the future,
I can do nothing.

I live now.
But I worry. About the past and the future,
I can do nothing,
So I seek deep divine stillness to drown worry.

I live now.
But I worry about the past and the future.
I can do nothing,
So I seek deep divine stillness to drown worry,
And bless my life with the eternal now.

Generations call me
Mother of Sorrows

My son was betrayed,
Tortured -  murdered
On a criminal’s cross

Generations call me
Blessed among women
Believing God grew
In my womb

Generations come to me
Hail Mary, Holy Mary
Pray for us
Now
And at the hour of my death

Abraham
Ishmael
Isaac
Moses
Mohammed
Solomon
Jesus

Jesus
My son
My bright-eyed boy
Born in Bethlehem
A toddler in Egypt
Growing strong in Nazareth
Sneaking off to stay in Jerusalem
Baptized by his cousin
(who was holy but a little weird)
In the Jordan River
Making friends among the fisherman
Along the Sea of Galilee
Beloved of Mary Magdalene 
She with those far-seeing eyes

My son’s feet knew the dirt
Of only one place on earth

My son’s native love belonged
To only one place on earth

My son’s mustard seed
Was planted
In only one place on earth

My son, my husband, and I
Knew only one place on earth
As home

Truly,
I am 
Mother of Sorrows
Weeping
As battles rage
As slaughter abounds
As injustice breeds injustice 
As horrors breed horrors

In the land we love
My son, my husband and I

Behold, said God
My creation
I call it good

Beholden, said God
Not to me
But to each other

Be holding, said God
Your earth’s riches
Not for me
But for you

Hold, hold, Hold Hard, said God
Not to the beauty of the oil slick
But to old leaves that fall to their death
That trees may resurrect young leaves

Behold and be warned, said Gaia
My bounty cannot be wasted by some
Lest it be lost by all

The mosquito bite
just above my left ankle
smaller by far
than a freckle 
preoccupies me

IT itches
Don’t scratch!
I examine IT closely:
A small red mark
slightly puffy

IT fascinates me

I rub IT
I try to ignore IT
I slather on aloe vera
I rub IT some more

I focus on ignoring IT

I inspect IT closely
No visible change
I rub IT some more
sneak in a stealthy
scratch or two

I return to ignoring IT
Pretend to ignore IT

That mosquito bite
just above my left ankle
smaller by far
than a freckle 
IT owns me

Rumbling in the background
The traffic on 29 North
Just beyond the small strip mall
That is itself just beyond 
The back of the back
Of our backyard

Before Woody
Beyond my back yard’s lawn
Was an old basketball hoop
Imbedded in concrete
In the middle of opportunistic trees
In the back of the back

Then Woody landscaped 
That back of the back
Seven years ago
The year we pretend-married
The year after we met

Landscaped is such a sedate word
For weeks of wheelbarrowed rocks
Broken up concrete
Sawed up wood
And digging
Digging, digging, digging
Measuring, shaping
Until the back of the back
Once forsaken
Once resigned to strip mall intrusions
Became our shade garden
Made by Woody
Entered through an archway
Made by Woody
Covered by Carolina jasmine
With sometimes sweet yellow flowers
Planted by Woody

Down the three broad stone steps
Planned and created by Woody
Into the cool shade garden
With the Woody-made stream
Flowing into the Woody-made pond
Adorned with the Woody-made large Japanese lantern
Surrounded by Woody-planted shade-loving flora
Alive with goldfish bought, not made, by Woody

We walk the brief paths
Woody and I
We cross the low arched wooden bridge
Woody-made, of course,
To span the Woody-made
Small stream

Woody says that every rock
In our shade garden
Every rock, large and small,
He moved at least four times
He estimates

Until he created
Over much longer than six days
A not-natural but Woody-made oasis
In the back of our back

I want to be the one
Always
To love and be loved by
Woody