Saturday, March 10, 2012


Trying to say it. Not
to answer to logic,

but leaving
our very lives open
to how we have
to hear ourselves
say what we mean.
(Excerpt:  'Saying it" by Phillip Booth)

I try to speak of it
Say so many words
they spill out of me
Trying to give it all away.
Gather the story
And stand in this place
Hurling hope to some future day
That is today.
Tell what I see and try to speak it straight.
To let words give form to all that is beyond
any word any of us could say.
Love.  Joy.  Terror.  Mercy.
Darkness or Light-
None of them say it.
impossible, but that’s no reason to stop.
Grace.  Listen.  Thank.  See.
Hold or Let Go-
Good.  God.  Need.  Help.
Touch or Try-
Laughing out loud at the good of it.

I talk with my hands
Wake thinking,
trying to remember
Words floating to the surface
From heart to mouth
How beauty can bring us to tears
Or tears to Beauty beside us

Remembrance of the cup
passed to my hand
and I took it.
Sting of wine in the throat
I can still taste the bread
Mash it together, swallow hard
Daughter in the pew beside me
Wraps my arm around her like a cloak
Or a deacon’s stole across her chest.
Diakonia: another word to say it
sometimes I hear the stones sing. 

I am Silent now,
And feel its relief.
Sit awhile
The morning sun is hot in my window
I read the word
Close my eyes to pray
It runs fingers along the brailled surface of me
Finds the pattern and reads aloud to me.

The sun is so hot
It forces me to move.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Lord bless my soul for girlfriends
who like easy peasy tostadas and for fun anniversaries and sand in the toes