Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Wealth of peers

This is a week of change.  Big change.  I say goodbye to some things, and hello to others.  Come to think of it, it*s not unlike  a lot of weeks recently... only some are more noticeable.  I had a client who asked me when her purpose in life would be completely clear.  We had a wonderful conversation about one thing at a time.  I did not tell her about this being a big change week for me.  I did tell her that for me, I only seem to figure out one step at a time.  This week I am aware that I seek a wealth of peers.

I seek a wealth
Of peers.
I am not interested
In being the expert;
Not interested
In being seen
Through the eyes of someone
Who considers
How I might be fixed.
I am looking for,
I seek,
Indeed I long for,
A wealth of peers:
To converse
Over a cup of coffee;
Trade metaphors
Back and forth;
Encourage me
As I encourage them;
Drive me when I need a ride, and in return,
Allow me to accompany them
At the end
Of a particularly hard day.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012


This anger thing is interesting.  Already it feels different.  Actually this part feels like parenting.  Holding people accountable and still being available.  Continuing to be available.  I am learning, always learning... what*s mine, what*s theirs, what we share.

Already it feels different.
Two clients are pissed at me
And I know
It is o.k.
One skipped yesterday.
The other missed last week
And thinks it is hardly fair
That he owes me
For the missed session.
I do not know
Whether he will show
And then owe me 
For two.
Already it feels different.
I see their anger
From a distance.
I know it has something
To do with me.
But only something.
I will wait and see
What happens next.

Monday, October 29, 2012


It is Monday.  And overwhelmingly neon at the clinic.  At least there is good company.

I can barely tell
The time of day.
The neon covers over
Morning and afternoon.
I think it may be sunny
No one in the waiting room
Is dripping.
It is Monday
There is neon everywhere
In this old motel.
I can barely tell
The time of day.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

We lean toward orange

Pick your paint colors... and live with the results.  When we moved here years ago, we chose a neutral color for the whole house.  We all agreed and the color is fine but really rather boring.  Our bright orange bathroom, in glossy tangerine, is anything but boring.  Indeed, with the white shiny floor tile, it was blinding.  With the tile change, it seems a better choice.  Now we don*t have to squint when we go in there.  Now we are considering a color for the kitchen.  

Obviously we lean toward
The last time we made the mistake
Of gloss
Instead of eggshell.
Our downstairs bathroom
Shed a neon tangerine glow
In the white tiled hallway,
Even when the door
Was shut.
With more muted tile
The orange gloss
Is now
Almost palatable.
We can look in the bathroom mirror
And not
Be blinded.
Now it*s time
For the kitchen.
We still seem to lean
Toward orange,
Even though the conversation
Had settled on brick red.
We have made two trips
To the hardware store
For 36 by 36 paint chips.
We have moved from oranges
To peaches
To Moroccan red.
The current agreement
Is rust.
We will consider the color
In daylight
In spotlight
When the sun shines on it
Just so
Right before twilight
Sets in.
As a family
We lean toward orange.
Every morning we remember
What orange gloss
Got us.

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Empty place

Such things take practice.  Moving on to the next thing. I take what I have learned with me.  I have done this before.  Most likely I will do it again.   It is tempting to blame others for my having to move on.  In my best moments I know it is gift.  I have been here before.  I will be here again.

It is time to move on.
I take a step.
I do not know where to go
Except to step
To an empty place,
Survey the landscape,
Figure out whether it is tundra
Or sand,
Whether I need to put on my water wings,
Swim or dive,
Perhaps fly
To what is next.
When I mention moving
It puts the fear of God
In those I love.
I have been here before.
It has always
Put the fear of God
In those I love.
I cannot describe
The empty place
In any satisfying way.
I have been here before.
I will be here again.

Unplanned things

Yesterday was an unplanned day.  Such days can be dangerous.  I find myself paying attention to things that have been niggling at the edges.  I came, I saw, I felt.  I made two or three decisions that I hadn*t realized I needed to make.  Today is different, yet of course it is connected with yesterday.  Today I have more planned things to do. 

Yesterday was filled
With unplanned things.
I figured I would see
How it went.
I would note
Unplanned surprises.
I would do what seemed
Find out what it felt like
I came
I saw
I felt.
Today is awash in sunshine,
Autumn chill,
A tinge of sadness
Yet still
There is purpose.
Today offers more
Of a plan:
Pumpkins placed in the planters
For Halloween;
Library books returned;
Final pieces installed
In the upstairs bath.
More of a plan today,
Yet still residual sadness
From yesterday.
I come
I see
I feel.
Today is different.
I am the same.

Friday, October 26, 2012


Today is one of those days.  What would Jesus do?  I have little idea.  Today seems to be a day to sift and sort and possibly walk to the library.  The house is still in disarray.  Kicking over tables, one of the few examples we have of external anger on Jesus* part, does not seem like a productive option.  What would Jesus do?

What would Jesus do?
All too often
I have no idea.
Most times
I come at the question
From the negative.
Would Jesus do this?
Or this?
Or this?
I come at the question
From a string of answers:
Not this,
Nor this.
Not even this.
If Jesus was really pissed
Would he be entitled
To a temper tantrum?
Was kicking over that table
Of moneychangers
In the temple
An example
I might be justified
To copy?
Which piece of the Man
Is justified
Do I look for tables
To kick over?
Do I walk away,
And away.
Stay home
And tend to the cat.
Pray for the client
Who didn*t show
Last night
In the rain.
Wonder at the conversations
I had
Instead of the scheduled ones.
What would Jesus do?
What did Jesus do?
What will Jesus do?

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Itsy Bitsy Spider

I would not trade my office space... for anything.  Sure it means that I can*t see most people in the morning.  Small, occasionally loud, voices, perhaps a small meltdown, is not conducive to many people*s therapy office comfort level.  Still... I would not trade my office space... for anything.

The strains
Of Itsy Bitsy Spider
Followed by
This Little Light of Mine
And ended with
Jesus Loves Me
Remind me of the whole
Kit and kaboodle
In the voices of small children.
I sit in the aftermath
Of adult trials and tribulations.
Again the children sing
As they do every day
After lunch
Before they go home
With their particular adult.
I imagine the children hum
Itsy Bitsy Spider
This Little Light of Mine
Jesus Loves Me
To their particular adult companion
In the midst of trials
And tribulations.
I imagine their hum
Reminds the adult
Of child time
Just as it reminds me

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

New rhythm

It never seems to fail.   When I start writing about something new, like life in a new rhythm, for example, it ties into the old.  Of course it does.  There*s always a tie-in.
I am home today.  This week I have no Wednesday clients, so I will be home (such as it is, in its torn-up state).  I will walk and write and assess the backyard.  For whatever reason I woke up with the old-worded Exhortation to Confession in my head: 

Ye who do truly and earnestly repent you of your sins, and
are in love and charity with your neighbors, and intend to
lead a new life, following the commandments of God, and
walking from henceforth in his holy ways: Draw near with
faith, and make your humble confession to Almighty God,
devoutly kneeling:

Perhaps today has something to do with confession (or exhortation)  as well.  New rhythm with old material.

These days require
New rhythm.
Do I begin now?
Or do I practice
A particularly good
New rhythm
With the instruments
On hand:
The sand blocks
The castanets
The singing bowl;
The underlying heart beat;
The breathing in,
The breathing out;
The accompaniment of raucous redwings
As they gather once again to leave
In the neighbor*s tree;
The breathing in,
The breathing out;
New rhythm?
Or oldest rhythm

Tuesday, October 23, 2012


This is for a friend turning thirty in a month.  She has accomplished so many things in her twenties, and wants to know what she can accomplish in the remaining month of her twenties.  Hi Callie!

This is really for all of us, no matter where we are.  Here we are.  There is a lot to Here.  It is the only Here and Now we have.  Tomorrow it will be a different Here and Now.  Consider the possibilities.  Now un-consider them. 

Consider the possibilities before you,
Un-consider them.
Weigh the possibilities in your hands:
Which is heaviest?
Which is lightest?
Let them dribble through your fingers
Until your hands
Are completely empty.
Rub your hands together
Until not even
A speck of dust remains.
Wash your hands.
Feel the slipperiness
of the soap,
The warm water streaming
Through your fingers.
Find a fluffy towel,
Dry between each finger.
Clean your nails
Don*t forget to clean
Your nails.

Completely un-consider
Your possibilities.
Let them sift through your fingers,
Sweep them out the door.

Begin again

Monday, October 22, 2012


Yesterday the Gospel was James and John jockeying for position with Jesus.  The sermon was on sharing the Cup.  Sharing.  Something we get lessons on beginning at age two.  Something we seem to have a hard time remembering.  Yesterday was also healing prayer.  I knew I was good yesterday, and serving as an usher, I was seated in the back.  Yesterday was healing prayer.  Seated in the back, suddenly, I remembered South Carolina and Quincy

The sermon was on the Cup
To be shared
With those on the right,
Those on the left,
The disciples who begged
For those places,
Those spots which placed them
Next to Jesus.
The sermon was on the Cup
To be shared;
The operative word:
We forget

Sunday, October 21, 2012


This is what I woke up with this morning.  The woman who asked Jesus to heal her daughter, only to be called a dog by him, comes to mind.  She had the presence of mind to tell Jesus that even the dogs got the crumbs under the table.  Little did she know that under that table was chocolate cake with chocolate frosting for her and her daughter, and beyond.  Well beyond.

I dreamed I was in charge
Of the meal.
For dessert
I cut the sheet cake,
Chocolate with chocolate frosting,
Just enough pieces
For everyone present.
When it came my turn
For cake,
There was a sliver left,
Only crumbs.
It was a puzzle.
I was sure I had counted
Exactly right.
Then I saw
Two full pieces
On the floor
Under the table.
Chocolate with chocolate frosting.
Enough for me
And someone I have yet
To meet.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Saturday morning

With the house in construction upheaval, it helps to pay attention to the things that remain the same:  the autumn sun, blue sky, the Saturday morning routine.

On Saturday everyone
Sleeps in.
No matter how long
I stay in bed,
Everyone else wins
The sleep contest:
The husband
The daughter
The cat
The turtle.
Everyone else
Sleeps in.
I wake to autumn sun
Blue sky,
The sound of a house
Breathing slowly
Around me.
On Saturday I hear
The waking patterns
Moves slow
At first.
Moves slowly
They appear.

Friday, October 19, 2012


Now I counsel people for a living.  Of course, as I counsel people, they in turn, offer so much to my own perception of things.  Often I find layers of things I have covered over, as well as the layers with which I cover things.  Iona is a holy place with layers upon layers.  In retrospect it is not a surprise that on Iona I realized there is more to be done.

On Iona I discovered
There is more to be done,
Always more
To be done.
This is hardly new information,
Yet it is somehow
Still new.
There are
Still more layers
To be discovered,
The layers have always
Been there
I am clever
We are clever
We are all more than capable
Of creating
New things to do,
New things to keep us busy
Cover the old with monuments
Even stone basilicas
Pretend there is nothing
Or pretend perhaps
The underneath
Doesn*t matter.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

New glasses

Sometimes a relatively simple change allows other things to change around it.  I tell clients this all the time.  Why should it be so surprising to me?  Now it seems I do not need to spend as much time and effort getting things into focus.  The prisms in my new glasses help me focus more easily. The prisms actually seem to help, not just my vision, but my hearing and apprehension of the world around as well.

Already I notice the difference.
There are no rainbows evident
But the fall colors are clearer.
When I worked out this morning
I could see the trainer
Across the room.
I even saw aspects
Of my lunch partner yesterday
Which took me
By surprise.
I know this has nothing to do
With prisms
But then again
Maybe it does.
Already I notice a difference.
Already I know
It relates to more
Than prisms
Or potential rainbows.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012


The new glasses are in!  I pick them up this morning.  I had never heard of prisms in glasses before.  And no, it is not something new-fangled.  Just one more thing no one had ever considered I might need before.  It keeps the head spinning.  I often tell couples or even individuals I counsel the story of the woman who threw a party.   A guest brought an alligator to the party, on a leash.  The guest left the alligator behind the sofa when he departed.  The hostess, not quite knowing what to do, wrestled the alligator into the bathtub, and went to bed.  She went to work the next day.  When she returned home, there was a note from the cleaning lady saying:  

Dear Mrs. Murphy,  
I quit.  
I have made it a firm policy never to work for people who keep alligators.  I would have told you this before, but somehow the subject never came up.

It seems there are always alligators.  

Somehow there are always new subjects.  

My experience with prisms
Has been limited.
Up until today
They were pieces of cut glass;
They caught the light
Made rainbows on the wall
When the sun shone through
Just right.
Today my new glasses await
With prisms
To help me focus.
Will there be rainbows?
Or will I only see rainbows
When the light shines through
Just right?

Tuesday, October 16, 2012


It occurs to me that perhaps the order we count on so much is really a figment.  The images swim (like the coot) through my dreams, and my brain strives to make sense of them.  There is probably gift to be found in disorder, in the chaos of a house undone.  There are branches piled on the grass next to the street.  They were cleared by a man in need of money who returns about once a year.  It is a two-part job, for which he has been paid in part.  The rest comes when he finishes.  He is supposed to return today.  It is one more uncertainty on the plate.

I dreamed a lot
Last night.
We moved to a new place.
It was completely re-done
I walked out the door.
Now it seems we live on the waterfront.
The biggest coot
I have ever seen
Was swimming
In front of the house.
A Target superstore
Was directly behind
The house.
My sister was in charge of sales.
She was front and center
Arranging clothes on a display
Dressed in alb and stole.
It seems my world
Is being

Monday, October 15, 2012


Oversleeping.  Yesterday I blamed it on the weather, the sun failing to show before afternoon.  This morning I have no such excuse.  In fact my mind trips around the difference between oversleeping and all the sleepovers I used to have when I was growing up.  When I get up in the morning, whenever I get up in the morning, the kitchen is still not anywhere near complete.  The house is in disarray.  The coffee pot still lives in our bathroom.

It is a week of oversleeping
As opposed to sleeping over.
Oversleeping has the connotation
Of grabbing extra needed hours
Of snooze.
Sleeping over
Has little to do
With actual sleep,
Only being awake
With others
In the dark
Hushed giggles
An occasional snort
Seeing if the hand of the sleeper
Dipped in warm water
Has the expected consequences.
This week all of us
Are  oversleeping.
When we awake
Maybe the kitchen
Will function
If we sleep
Long enough.
Maybe more will be in hand
If we sleep
A long long time.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Sleeping in

Ah, the perspective that years bring.  It is rainy and the house is under construction and my daughter just got in the door after sleeping at a friend*s house after Homecoming.  I do not have a Sunday obligation, at least not the same Sunday obligation most of my clergy colleagues do.  The 10:30 service begins in three minutes and I (we) are not there.

I remember
My first year of seminary,
A senior decided
To sleep in every Sunday morning
For the whole year.
After all
He said
I will have to get up early
Every Sunday
Until I die.
That seemed cynical
To me,
Way back in 1980.
Where*s your dedication?
I thought
Is it a true calling?

Saturday, October 13, 2012

On reading Anne Sexton*s Welcome Morning

When I opened my daily email from Inside/Outside, I read the words by Anne Sexton, full morning exuberant words, also full knowing she committed suicide.  Both are real full knowings.  Often we are called upon to hold two seemingly opposite things, one in each hand, realizing both are true.  I wonder what we write on the palms of our hands, what we use as reminders.

This morning brings a poem
On the wonderfulness
Of everything:
Sheer joy and laughter
As the morning begins
The cup and plate,
The chapel of eggs.
This is a poem
I could read every morning
As a reminder.
It is amazing
In its simplicity.
The world,
Each piece of the world,
Addresses the author
By name.
This is a poem of wonder
And awe
Of the moment.
I might read it every morning,
I could write it on the palm
Of my hand:
A reminder

Friday, October 12, 2012

Day off

Ah, the danger of taking a day off and considering the pieces.  When I opened my email, an unlikely long ago friend requested to have lunch with me.  In truth it may be a piece of my mosaic, but potentially way more than that.  I have been wondering about the theme of my life after leaving parish ministry.  It is like I have been set free to consider priesthood on the edges, and I have no idea what it will contain.  I do have some of the pieces, but it is also clear I am not done yet.  Of course the house is still undone.  Everything, it seems, is a metaphor.

Today was set aside;
A day to consider the pieces
I have been given,
Consider how they might fit
In the picture.
A message from a friend
Tells me
The box of pieces acquired
So far
Is partial
At best.
It tells me
I am not done yet
By a long shot.
It tells me
When I left what I was doing
The world expanded
Or perhaps
I was suddenly aware
It is way more
Than I had imagined.
A message from a friend
Brings me back to the time
When I was four,
Saw the clouds move
And knew,
Simply knew
There is a God.
Now I know
I am not done
By a long shot.
The clouds are up there
What I have been given
Is partial at best
I will never be done.

Thursday, October 11, 2012


This is indeed a week of discovery.  I have spent quite a while adapting to blurry vision.  All the eye specialists were puzzled.  The retina guy knew it was my optic nerve.  The optic nerve guy knew it was my retina.  It gets worse in bright light, when I am overheated, or under stress.  It seems I was not naming it correctly.  It seems double vision is corrected these days with prisms.  Wild.  I am now waiting for my new glasses.  Will they be perfect?  Most likely not.  But I will take and celebrate improvement.  Like Columbus, I find myself on new shores.  

This is a week of discovery.
What I named as blurry vision
Is really two of the same image,
Up and to the right.
My retinas and optic nerves
Test clear.
My brain is
What it is.
This week
I found a holistic
He discovered
My blur is double vision,
My left eye sees
Way up and slightly
To the right.
When I practice seeing
With one eye
Or the other,
There is no blur.
I have new glasses on order
With prisms.
New discoveries are made
All the time.
I feel like Christopher Columbus.
He thought he had reached India,
Only to discover
It was someplace
Entirely new.

Wednesday, October 10, 2012


When I opened my email this morning, I found that a neighbor had acknowledged my skill in grief counseling.   While I knew he was grieving, in truth I have not communicated with him since the occasion of the source of his grief.  I was surprised.  When I took out the trash, he was walking by.  So, after the fact, I made good on his recommendation.  It remains surprising to me how God continues to work through so many things.

In my own grief
About oh so many things,
A side friend acknowledges me
On LinkedIn
For my skill
In grief counseling.
He is one I have never counseled
For grief
Or otherwise.
In truth I felt guilty
About not reaching out to him
In his current loss.
As I took out the trash this morning
He walked by.
We engaged
In mutual
Grief counseling.
Usually such opportunities
Do not line up
After the fact.
Usually opportunities
Do not present themselves
Quite so neatly.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Iona eyes

In the midst of home chaos, I find myself acclimating to the home renovation.  Returning from Iona to Illinois was a bit of a shock.  Still, I knew what I was returning home to.  And a little about what I was returning home with.  I am still thinking about the women from Fort Worth, struggling with re-ordering their diocese.  I am clearly not done yet, with prayer, with figuring where I fit in the re-ordering of the whole.  I did think I was done. I now know I am not.

Two weeks returned
From Iona,
I think I am getting
My bearings back
Of course nothing
Is ever final.
The trick is to keep
Iona eyes
In Illinois,
Just as Illinois
Arrived with me
On Iona.
Just as I found Fort Worth
Staying in the same hotel.
Cooler weather
Is upon us now.
The trees have noticed
In full color.
I watch them change
With Iona eyes.

Monday, October 8, 2012


Stress, thy name is kitchen renovation.  The cabinets I thought we had already ordered have more decisions involved before a final order can be placed.  Right.  It is 11:46 and the designer is coming in five minutes to take final measurements that I thought were final before I went to Iona.  I am struggling to finish my coffee before noon.  Re-thinking is probably required all the way around.

Some re-thinking
May be required
When the plan
To ingest no caffeine after noon
Finish the coffee pot
At 11:55.


Things happen.  Cars don*t work so good.  Pipes break.  Five-year-olds are good at naming things as they are, and finding excitement in most anything.  

Years ago we had a car.
My son
Aged 5
Said: It doesn*t work so good.
That was before grammar
Became so all-fired
Not so good
Not so well
Either one
Said it all.
The car had a habit
Of over-heating
On the freeway.
When we took a long trip,
We could never drive
Straight through.
Years ago
Our car required
Side tours to sights
We would never have seen
Were it not
For that car
Overheating in Ohio.
Were it not for that car
We would never have stood
On the side of the freeway
With a five year old saying
Every time a car sped by.
The five year old would never have had
The supremely exciting ride
In the pick-up truck.
Without that car,
Would probably never
Have been
On the itinerary.

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Season of returnings

This weekend I returned to a parish I left ten years ago.  It had been a tough assignment, for them, I suspect,  as much as for me.  Of course a lot has happened in ten years.  Of course a lot has not changed at all.  The tough part is understanding which are the meaningful bits, and what is chaff.  I admit I was not looking forward to going.  I admit I am glad I went.

On occasion
It is good to return
To the scene,
To see if what I remember
Still is.
Even to wonder if
It ever was
As I remember.
It is good
To return to the scene,
See people from the outside
Rather than from the inside
I am in the season
Of returnings.
I return to the scene,
Notice what has changed,
What has not changed
At all.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Beer with Jesus

Driving music.  I never listened to country except when I was driving.  I can drive again in December. I may find the country station again then.  Here are the lyrics to Beer with Jesus.

I used to love to drive
To country music.
Now my daughter,
New in hand,
Has discovered the joy
All on her own.
Last night we drove to dinner
With country accompaniment.
Last night
We drove to dinner
To the strains
Beer with Jesus.

Friday, October 5, 2012


I forgot about the library.  I dare not check out books with such disorder at home, but the library space is amazing in its order and simplicity, not to mention the view out the window.  It is balm.  I have even discovered the Vish Puri murder mystery series.  They will transport me... to India.

Once again I find
The library.
The voices are low
And pleasant.
There is no background music.
I sit and face
A bank of windows
Floor to ceiling,
Look out on golden trees
Against a pearl gray sky.
I imagine the kitchen painted
In fall colors.
Here is
More order
Than I have encountered
In days.
Here is big space
In big order.
Soft voices.
Library low and pleasant
Leaves gold yellow,
Pearl gray sky
Through wide-paned windows
Floor to ceiling.


Ugh.  Ugh.  Ugh.  

The kitchen is swathed
In plastic.
They*ve only begun.
Next week
We are promised a mess
Of the fifth dimension.
Then they will leave us alone
Until the cabinets
I used to love

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Under construction

The new dry-wall guys showed up at home this morning.  These are not the ones who broke the pipe upstairs which led to kitchen renovation downstairs.  I am glad.  When I went to my consultant appointment this morning, I found the office... under construction.  I understand his new office will be down the hall.  Now I am sitting in the one space in my life I can pretend is not under construction.  As I do the children are running by my door, back and forth, back and forth.  Soon they will sing Jesus Loves Me, This I Know... as they do every day before lunch.

The world
Is under construction.
How could I miss this
Is in flux.
It always has been.
The ground moves
Under my feet.
Even the person who was once
My therapist
Then supervisor
Now consultant
Lives in an office space
Under construction.
My home
Is under construction.
Yesterday God sent Jesus
To sit in my office
To show me
He is still here
She is still here
While everything continues
Under construction.
I know it was Jesus yesterday,
Though I don*t think
He had a clue
About his identity.
The world
Is under construction.
Sometimes Jesus
Shows his face.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012


Sometimes it seems a meltdown is needed, a necessary thing.  Having an office next to a nursery school teaches me new things every morning.  

There is a child
Having a meltdown
Outside my office door.
I know how he feels.
The day is gray and rainy.
Lunch is not to his liking.
His mother has yet
To materialize.
You name it
There is probably more.
Meanwhile the adults offer
Continuing calm voices.
They will soak him up
With a sponge
When it is over.
Dry the tears.
Already I hear the gulps.
They signal the end
Of the meltdown.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

I am not done yet

When I was on Iona, my beloved told me that the Bishop wanted to know if I was having spiritual experiences.  I have never seen so many rocks as when I was there.  I have never seen so many rainbows at once.  I have rarely seen the Milky Way as clear... certainly not three nights in a row.  Sometimes I get spiritual experience mixed up with certainty.  I came back certain that I am not done yet.  It was not quite the spiritual experience I had hoped for, even when I didn*t think I was hoping for any particular thing.  Still... it counts.

I envy those
Who know
The next exact thing.
I wish it was ordered
Like that
In my life.
The white pebbles
Gleam in the moonlight.
They show the next step
And the next
Beyond it.
The track laid out
In the moonlight,
Sometimes starlight,
The white pebbles strewn
In order of importance:
One path obvious
One path ordered.
Instead I find the rocky pebbled beach,
The Milky Way clear
With so many stars
It spans the sky
A spilled ribbon
Of light.
I pick a rock from the beach
Locate one star
Is this the one?
Or this one?
Or this?
I envy those who know
The next rock
The next star.
All I know
I am not done yet.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Manageable space

More from Iona.  It is hardly as manageable as I sit here in home chaos.  Still... the Iona memory holds.  I remember the variations of weather, the water changes in the strait between Iona and Mull.  I remember the water flowing both directions at once.

This is manageable space
And time,
Small enough to see
Changes in wind and water,
Sun breaking through,
Bits of hail and rain.
The come and go,
The hitch and pull,
The push and pull of Spirit
In manageable time
And space.
Blues and greens of the strait
Water flowing
Both directions at once.