Friday, November 2, 2012

Wary


Maybe I am really naturally quiet.  I don*t think so.  I am wary about being interrupted.  I expect... to be interrupted.  This reflection began as a piece on voice, and ended somewhere else.  Or then again, maybe it is about voice.  That*s often what happens when I write.  Different things find their way in even as I contemplate the exact right word.  A piece on voice, for example, becomes a piece on my being wary of speaking.

Often
Still too often
I am wary
I will say too much,
So instead
I say too little.
This voice thing
Is tricky.
It*s not just singing
Takes practice.
I preached for years,
Practiced preaching
For years,
Almost every Sunday.
Never got it exactly right,
Though most often,
It was good enough.
God agreed to inhabit my words.
Probably most often
God spoke
In the spaces
Between words.
So much more eloquent
In the spaces
Between words.
This morning I woke and knew
All the theologies
All the sermons
In the world
Can never be more eloquent
Than the spaces
God inhabits.
Still
Even in this knowledge
I find myself
wary.

2 comments:

  1. Catharine
    I just saw your blog for the first time through a friend's facebook account.
    What lovely poems, what beautiful ideas. I hope to encounter them more often. Thank you for sharing. You are a talented poet.

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