17.When did clay first think to shirk the potter?As lungsfirst billowed with breath, sun barely risen? 18.I was not there at first dawn yet I too wake withthe sameserpentine thought in my drowsy brain. 19.Great mystery: that clay should breathe and defy.Greater this:that dried up clay should breathe again. 20.When it breathes, what does theContinue reading “Microprayers for Lent: Weeks Four and Five”
Category Archives: Poetry
Microprayers for Lent: Week Three
11.Only You with the gentle wind of Your fingerscan sweepthese layers without losing me. 12.Your wind it was that first animated dust –so nowcatch me up in the willy-willy of You. 13.Scoop me, spiral me in the eye of Your storm;swirl meup in Your whirlwind. Enspirit me. 14.For only in the dance and condensation ofYourContinue reading “Microprayers for Lent: Week Three”
Microprayers for Lent: Week 2
5.Dust clogs the corridors of heart’s chambers.Have mercy:teach love to this dust. 6.Clean airways. Clean neural pathways. Clean roadsto love.Breathe clean air in me. 7.Wipe clean eyes overclouded with dust.Give sightto know my earthen flesh in others. 8.(And what of the dust on the countertop and shelves,the haze in my line of sight to You?)Continue reading “Microprayers for Lent: Week 2”
Microprayers: First Week
What is this quintessence of dust? William Shakespeare, Hamlet 1.Ashen brain breathes ashen prayers.My God –can ashes rise? 2.Dust clings to prayer’s mouth.I breathe;Prayer disperses… 3.Dust too collects in glory’s crevices;I longfor life, not death. 4.Water me with the condensation ofYour Spirit.Make me mud to mould.
New Year
I no longer resolve,fatigued by my own failure,all previous years’ zeal turnedto crumbs surrounding my table. Instead I will sweepand, in sweeping, take noteof these archeological layers,the fossils of all these discarded selvesand all I thought I could be: the days I failed myself before sunrise,the anger that burned before the day felt its heat;theContinue reading “New Year”
Advent 5
As a child, it was alwayspure anticipation, the sense of somethingpouring out of a constantlyself-filling source, readying itself solelyfor our delight. Now I keepthe list running in my head of allthat is not yet done, might not be done withoutmy doing. Though gifts still beckon, so toothe slowly nagging sense of somethingthat must be filled,Continue reading “Advent 5”
Advent 3
So rare the still point.We must come backto the same place in tinystolen moments to seehow grace grows in spite of us.Infinitesimal changesslowed and tardied by oursenseless flurryyet growing all the same.The child gift grew with Mary’s Yes;may I be quick to slow to You,to give my Yes to Your life in me.
Advent 2
Days brighten as legs lag;Christmas’ pulse confuses withAdvent slowness.How do we find stillness in this poundingpurposeful ascent to year’s climax?Many rushed home for the census but fewsaw the signs, heard the angels, glimpsed the star.Slowness humbles.In weakness, in childlikeness, come.In seasonal fluster, in thesehigh-pollen, heaty days, come.In competence, incompetence,preparedness and cluelessness, come.The season grows thatContinue reading “Advent 2”
Advent 1
Somehow, likea miracle of new birth,the children rise withall the energy of Christmas morning.I lag behind their delight,lost still in the sleep I wish I was having,yet lifted all the same to seechild hearts leapinglike an infant in the expectant womb.The waiting will be what chafes.Our spirits lag with Spirit’s time.Even by breakfast joy dwindlesContinue reading “Advent 1”
Waiting 7: Huldah
When the king, garments torn with grief at the broken law,sent messengers to me in hopes of hope,I thought at first, Have you come to me, notJeremiah, looking for a mother insteadof a firebrand? It mattered little.You cannot soothe a fire with lullabies,can only shout loud and clear that the whole town might hear.For sometimestheContinue reading “Waiting 7: Huldah”
The Consolations of Writing 