Part of a team

Now
That I am no longer
In charge,
The liturgical year
Comes in dribs and drabs
This year it begins
With a few ashes
The First Sunday in Lent
Continues next
To the Easter Vigil.
Who knows what
Will come next.
After  all
I am part
Of a team here.
The year is spelled out
In paragraphs
Spoken from the pulpit
By people
In various forms
Of disguise.

The new moon is not new

The new moon
Is there
While we wait
For its next
Appearance
In smaller
Then larger
Crescents.
The new moon
Hides out
While we wait
For its appearing.

We wait to order Christmas gifts

We wait to order Christmas gifts
Until we are home
To receive them.
So many places
To visit
First.

Everything holds hands

Everything
Holds hands
Whether we see it
Or not
It is not dependent
On us.
Eventually everything
Is woven
Into everything
Else
Smaller hands
Larger hands
Fingers interlaced
Eventually
No matter the time
Involved.

Hot chocolate day

Some days call
For hot chocolate
Even if
There are
No snow angels
No snow forts
No wet socks
Today was
Such a day
Blanket and hot chocolate
A poem
Like this one.
Yes
A poem
I think
A blanket
Hot chocolate.
Then I will see
What comes next.

Ribbons

Ribbons
Of mackerel sky
Ribbons
Of sunrise
Ribbons
Of sunset
Green ribbons
In the three-year-old's
Hair.
Ribbons of footsteps
Up and down
The sidewalk
Only seen
At first snowfall.
Then to disappear
As inches
Accumulate.
Gold ribbons
In the four-year-old's
Hair
As she dances
In the sunrise
Sunset
Down the sidewalk
Backdrop
Of mackerel sky.

Now. Here. This.

Now. Here. This.

Greg Boyle, a Jesuit who works with gangs in Los Angeles speaks of preparing for each encounter with this breath prayer: Now. Here. This.to remind him to remain present for this one moment in time, this one encounter. I like it. Now. Here. This. It allows me to hand out business cards, plant a seed, and maybe, just maybe, work with that person... eventually.

I have,

Slowly,

Learned to carry business cards

In every pocket,

Leave them outside

My office door.

I hear you’re good

She says.

I wonder who told her,

But that is not

For casual conversation.

I am,

Slowly,

Learning

People may take my card,

Gratefully even,

Fold it over in their wallet

And perhaps

Only perhaps

Call me in a year or two

When they’re ready.

Lemons

When life give you lemons
Enjoy them.
Find every single possible
Lemon recipe book
There is.
Live next door
To a lemon tree
Sit in the yard
Pick up the lemons
Which fall
On your side
Of the fence.
Admire them.
Zest them.
Consult them about
What's for dinner.

Snow covers all

The world shows brighter
With a dusting
Of snow
We may not have
White sand beaches
But here
Our snow
Covers all.

Still wet

It's December
And the rain
Is still here.
Wet
On the tree branches
Wet
On the windshield.
40 degrees
Still wet
On the sidewalks.

Playdate

Did Jesus and John
Have a playdate
In the womb
When their mothers' met
Now boys
Play nice
There will be time enough
When you are born. 

He will come soon

Tomorrow
The sermon appears on paper
So much sooner
Than I ever saw it
Before.
You brood of vipers
Says the camel-skinned one
Belted in leather
The one who is greater than I
Will come soon.
What will he wear?
How will we know him?
It remains
To be seen.
It remains to be heard.
It remains
To be experienced,
As all such things are.

Sweetie

The palette of New Orleans
Is unlike anything
I have ever seen.
The colors
Yes
The shine
Yes
The spangles
Yes
But never
Have I been
Sweetied
When my dinner order
Was taken
Sweetied
When my salad
Was delivered.
The New Orleans palette
Comes with colors
Shine
Sparkle
A please and a thank you
A wave
Even
A
Sweetie.
 

Can the labels please stop

I was part
Of the first wave
Of women ordained

Now we are an ocean
With octopi
And squid
And spiny starfish.
You name 'em
We are here.
Like it or not
We are here.

Can the labels
Please stop
We are not cans
Of soup.
Never were.
Never will be.

Mandolin

For years I played
The guitar
Now I hear the mandolin
In every song
It sounds
Around the edges
It rings
Even when
It doesn't.
I have put new strings
On both
Of my guitars
Still
The mandolin
Calls to me.

Walking stick

The hickory walking stick
Stands in the corner
Surrounded by birds.
It reminds me
To collect the people
Around me
Who can help me walk.
The birds
Are there
To remind me
I can fly.
 

As others share their work

As hearts were shared
My heart broke
And broke
And broke
Again
I thought I only
Had one
But it seems I have one
Per person
One
Per occasion
And then another
Comes along
Meets me on the path

The cat growls

Inherent
In her jungle nature
The long-haired tortoise-shell cat
Sits by the front window
Growls at the van
Which has just pulled up
Across the street.
There are men
In the van.
Men
May come here.
Men
Are not to be trusted.
Now the cat
Sits
Halfway
Up
The stairs.
Growls.
She is still related
To those cats
In the jungle
She
Herself
Was rescued
In the woods
By a young woman.

No immediate melt

First full snow
The winter is counted
In snows
Real snows
Not those meager
Dustings
These are the snows
Which require
A shovel
A snowplow
No immediate
Melt.

In between

When I set out
I had no idea
Mine was
To serve
In between.
It seemed in between
Occupied
A liminal space
Undefined
Unknown
People offered boxes
I might occupy
None of them
Fit.
Here I am
Behind the wild currant door
I figure the next
Liminal space
Undefined
Unknown
In between.

And when

And when
It comes time
For all to be done
Whatever all means
We say Advent marks
A new beginning
As well
As a new ending
And when
That one baby marks
The hallowing
Of straw
And then
We will know
When

Gouda nonetheless

The moon tonight
Is a piece of gouda
Uneven piece
Unrecognizable
As the moon
No red wax
But gouda
Nonetheless
All the way home
I saw it
From different angles
But gouda
Nonetheless.

Just so

When the birds prepare
Their flight
South
Teach their fledged ones
How to follow them
Just so.
Just so.
No fledgling arguments
Allowed
Or they will be
Stuck here
In the snow.
Their parents
Will not wait
Just so.
Just so.
Perhaps
Bird tears
Just so.
Just so.
I'm sure whole flocks
Have been stuck here
Just so
Just so
Bird tears.
Just so.

Riding the thermals

Three red tail hawks
Ride the thermals
Above our house
Call
To one another
Do you hear them?
My beloved says
Do you hear them?
Two hawks
No
Three.
Oh
To ride the thermals
Call to one another.
Oh
To ride the thermals.

We rely on others

He reminds me
It is not so simple
As I think,
Not so simple
As I remember.
I do not remember
As much
As I think.
None of us does.
When I wake up
Somewhere else
There I am.
When you wake up
Somewhere else
There you are.
We rely on others to tell us
Where we have been
So we can find out
Where we are
Now

Friends in the footnotes

In the public domain
Lives with ibid
Lives with anon
They are friends
In the footnotes.
They are often
Italicized
Whispered
Sometimes we know
Where
They come from
Sometimes not.
As a child
My beloved knew
Ibid
Was an expert
On pirates.

Finger memory

It's not just the calluses
Which need to return
The chord memory
Is caught somewhere
Back
In my head.
The fingers
Must remember
As well as
Both hands.
Do what you are called
To do.
Oh yes
We remember
Still
It will take awhile
Then comes
The singing.

It's good to know

Wild currant looks like
The red
It was before
It's good to know
Or not so good
To know
Our tastes remain
The same.
Red
Is red
Is red
Is red.
Somehow
Wild currant
Sounds
More exotic.

Halves

Some things come in halves
The other half
Waits in the wings.

Sometimes the wings
Are filled
With different things.

Welcome happy morning

I have killed more trees
Than I imagined
Possible,
Piled the wealth
Of paper
Around my chair
It is eight inches
Tall.
This is the pile
The cat has not
Discovered.
Welcome happy morning
We both
Are occupied.
For now.

Cat shreds

In addition
To assistance
Finishing my yogurt
Every morning
She shreds my writing
Strews it around
The living room.
Here is where
We live
She says
The living room
Alive with paper
Here is where
We live.

Time to sing

The strings arrive
Tomorrow
After the guitar is strung
The capo found
The key chosen
I am a fan
of Em.
D is also fine.
Then comes the music
Itself
The lyrics
What do they say?
The music
How does it speak?
I am a fan of Em
D is also fine.
The lyrics
The music
Em
D.
Time to sing.

I wonder what the birds say

I wonder what the birds say
To one another
In the morning.
I so often
Miss them
By sleeping in.
I overheard conversation
This morning
The sparrows
The crow
The singular blue jay.
Now they are silent
Other noises
Overtake them.
Often they start again
Toward evening
By then
I am occupied
With other things.
I wonder what they say
Then.

Zoo train

We live two blocks
From the train tracks
The train station.
In the morning the whistles blow
More often
Than the rest
Of the day.
Even in the morning
The whistles
The wheels
Carry romance
To the next town over.
My friend is married
To a man whose goal in life
Was to drive the train
At the zoo
Wear the hat.
Now he does.
Now he does.
The elephants
The lions
The tigers
The bears
Oh my.
In the zoo
The cadre of engineers
Most of them
Retired
Carry romance through
The zoo.

Calluses

First comes the ordering
Of the new guitar strings
Then the unpacking
Of the guitar
From the case
In the corner.
New strings
Are always
Required
New strings
Then come the calluses
It has been years
Since I played lullabies
To the children.
Now I will first sing
To myself
While I build up
My calluses.

Scrambled eggs

My head feels
Like scrambled eggs
Soon the concussion
Will come round right
Tis the gift
To be simple
Tis the gift
To be free
Soon the socks
Unpaired
In the dryer
Will find one another
Oh there you are
Oh there you are
They will say
Meanwhile
Scrambled eggs.

Wild currant

I want a job
Naming all the colors
To set free
Imagination
In people's heads.
We went through
All the paint chips
For the front door
Finally settled
On
Wild currant
No simple red
Or even burgundy
Wild currant
It is
Let imagination
Run wild.

Project creep

The project creeps along
One window
One gutter
One door
At a time
Our cleaning person calls
Our contractor
A lazy man
Still
He does good work.
We watch
The project
Creep.
Every day we come home
See one more thing
Has been done.
When the snow flies
The face lift
Should be
Complete.

Discernment

It's all discernment
Discernment in
Discernment out
Discernment in between
Some of us live
In the liminal space
We forever wonder
What comes next,
Or whether it is necessary
To bring a blankie there
Settle down
For a long nap
Until the next thing.

Embrace

Embrace
And reconciliation
Are different.
Reconciliation means
First there was conflict.
Now there is much hard work
To rejoin.
Embrace can happen
Anytime
Still,
To be authentic,
Reconciliation must come
First.

When a loved one

When a loved one
Gets hurt
It is vital to have
Someone else
On the scene
To report every step
That loved one
Can not report
Himself
Herself.
See?
I did not name you
This will be your story
To tell
But mine to watch
From the sidelines.

Face lift

The house is getting
A face lift
New windows
New siding (grey blue)
New front door paint
Closer to burgundy
Than bright red.
No one will recognize her
When they walk by
I will still tell my drivers
Three doors down
On the left.
They will not know
Who she is
With her face lift.
We may even have difficulty
Ourselves.

One risk

One risk per day
At least one
Is all it takes
to see what comes
Next.

Hint of autumn

There is a hint of autumn
In the air
In the yellowing plants
In the birds figuring
When it will be time
To fly,
A hint
But only a hint.
We know
What comes next
It is always the same.
I like
The sameness
I know
What to expect
When it comes.

Sandcastle building

The competition is on.
Who will judge?
Who will win?
What makes a good enough
Sandcastle?
Does it require
A drawbridge?
A moat?
How much sand?
How much water?
Saltwater beach
or fresh?
Decorated with seashells
Or beach glass?
The competition is on
Who will win?
Does it matter?

Crab apple year

Crab apple year
But the fireflies
Went missing
While cicadas rasped
Crickets sang.
We wait for the animals
To eat the crab apples
They're here.
They're here
They're here
We tell them
Where are you?
Gone with the fireflies?
Where are you?
We wait.

In my world

In my world
Which is
Your world
Don't forget
It is your world too.
In my world
People are people
Are people
Are people
Are people.
It is sometimes easy
To forget
We all hold hands.
In my world
It is your world.
Too.

Button box

My mother had a button box
I used to pour them
On the floor
Figure what I would do
With each one.
One button
Was the Aesop's fable button
Of the fox and the stork.
Each one
Inviting the other
To dinner.
The stork
Got the upper hand.
I wish I had
That button box
I would pour them
On the floor
Figure out
What stories
They could tell.

Ladder

If ever there came a time
To get
immediately
dressed
It was this morning
When the ladder appeared
Outside my bedroom window.

Weather headlines

Weather headlines
I continue to read them,
Listen to them,
So I know
What to expect.
They say
It will be cooler
This weekend
Though, of course,
We will see
What comes
We always see
What comes
Weather headlines
Don't always know
The outcome.

Entertaining angels

How do I entertain
Angels?
What do they drink?
What do they eat?
Do they like
Juggling routines?
I am not so good
At juggling
Do they prefer
Other entertainment
Oh please
Tell me how to entertain
Angels
Help me be aware
When they cross
My path.

Tiara

The Pork Queen helped a sow
Deliver her piglet
In Iowa,
Tiara and all.
What will it mean
When we no longer
Have queens or tiaras
Or are they slated
To be with us
Forever?
Queens down and dirty
Delivering piglets
A good beginning.

Same inside

The house acquires
A new skin
New eyes
To see.
The inside remains
The same.
The air rings
With Polish.
In other neighborhoods
Spanish echoes.
In ours
It's Polish
Same inside
Different language

Half vees

The geese practice
In half vees
Who will be
The leader?
How do they tell
When the time comes?
When the full vee
Time comes
Who will lead?
Who would rather
Trail behind
Let someone else
Take the full force
Of the wind
In the beak.

Earlier and earlier

The mail comes
Earlier and earlier
Every day
There is no predicting
When the mailbox
Opens
Then shuts
Brings with it
Its surprises
Of the day,
Earlier and earlier
Every day
Until earlier
Is no longer possible
It must go back
To the beginning
Again.

All the signs

When rain is coming
The backyard gets restless
Rabbits
Hop from one side
Of the yard
To the other
A squirrel stows
A piece of bread
In the handle
Of our trash bin
Just in case
Just in case,
Birds take
A final dust bath
Before the dust
Disappears.
The rain is coming
Surely it's coming.
All the signs
Are here.

Qarrtsiluni

The Inuit
Know darkness.
They also know the importance
Of company
There.
They have much
To teach us,
We who believe
We can do it all
Ourselves
By ourselves.

Butterfly time

It's butterfly time
Monarchs mass
Figure when they will go
To Mexico
Hang out
For that brief time
They have.
Butterflies don't live long.
They have so little time
To pass on
Their butterfly knowledge
Before others
Take over.
Then it's time again
To repeat
The cycle.
It's butterfly time
Monarchs mass.

And then there was light

And then
There was Light
The Light could only
Be seen
Apart
From the darkness
All creation requires
Some separation
In order to see things
As they are.
In order to hear things
As they are.
The Foley artist
Who is God
Creates sound effects
Creates lightning flashes
To go
With all the aspects
So we hear
So we see
And say Oh
Now I get it
Now I get it
And then
There was Light.

Morphed

One book has morphed
Into two.
At least.
At least
Into two.
I thought I was working on
One.
Books grow
Like Topsy.
I used to read
Two or three
At a time
Now I can barely
Write one
Much less read
One.

Aaron and Hur

Aaron and Hur
Don't get enough press.
They allowed Moses
To hold up his arms
When he got tired.
When the Israelites
Were losing the battle
It was all connected.
Aaron and Hur
Moses
Joshua
The Israelites
The Amalekites
The battle.
Aaron and Hur
Found the rock,
Sat Moses down,
Held up his arms
With the staff.
They don't get
Near enough credit
For their part
In the story.

Dust bath

The sparrows
Remind me
It's the time of year
for a dust bath.
They find joy
In dust.
Travel before roads
Were paved
Meant dust
People wore
Dusters
Goggles
Dust was part
Of the joy
Of travel
The movement from here
To there
Dust
Always dust.
The sparrows
Remind me.
There is joy
In dust.

Rock and a hard place

The channel finds me
Between clashing rocks
Scylla and Charybdis
Still
I am not Odysseus
Sailing
Waiting
To get home
Find home
Is not what I left.
It never is.
I can pretend
But pretense is not
What I left behind
Either.
I can choose my rocks
To sail between
Choose Scylla
Choose Charybdis
Choose to sail home
Find what awaits me
There.
It is never
What I left.

I counted

I counted all my life
Until I realized
Things
Did not add up
Not because
They didn't matter
Or
I didn't matter
I was simply
Counting
The wrong things.
The next things
Required
Different steps
In different dances
Different notes
In different songs.
Different stones
In different places.
Still it seemed
I should count.

The shoulds

In every session
The shoulds surround us
Make a circle
Hold hands
Dance
Ring around the Rosie
Ashes
Ashes
We all fall down
Until we help each other
Get up
Send the shoulds
Packing
To live
Where they have always
Lived.
Where they may return
But we will then
See them
More
From a distance.
In every session
The shoulds
Hold sway
Until we
Send them away.

There is no such thing as ordinary

Everyone is a miracle.
Everything
Is a miracle.
Sometimes we miss it
And miss it again
Miss it again
Until it hits us
Square
Between our eyes.
Square
Between our ears.
Oh no
We say
That can't possibly be
That ordinary person
That ordinary thing
We forget
There is no such thing
As ordinary.

Rocks figure big

Scripture says
Rocks figure big
Moses sat on one
Struck another with his staff
For water
To flow.
Jesus rolled one away
Showed up
As a Gardener
In cognito
Until he was recognized
By Mary.
Scripture says
Rocks figure big.

Categories

I categorize my poems
An un-categorized species.
To submit them
I must name
The un-chaptered
Which ones go together
Which ones
Must hang out
By the side
Of the road
Wait to join the next
Convoy.

Someone else to share the naming

One thing at a time.
Emily left a closet
Filled with poems.
Someone else
Gave them titles.
It appeals.
One thing
At a time.
Someone else to share
The naming.

Collection

As I collect
Old poems
I think of new
Possibilities,
Wonder how they will
Measure up
Against
Each other.
It seems the comparison
Never stops.
Never.
Mine against yours
Yours against mine
Ad infinitum.
If or when publication
Occurs
Will it make things better
Or worse
Or simply
Different.

New windows

When the windows arrive
Will they let us see
Differently?
Will gray-blue siding
Give that needed face lift
So perspective
From the outside
Offers the world
A different house
On the street
So the neighbors
Who walk their dogs
Every morning
Every evening
Will say
Amazing
What a face lift can do?
Will the dogs howl
In appreciation?
Lift their legs
On our trees
So other dogs must stop
And smell.
Stop and look.

No mellifluous song here

They complain
The birds
No mellifluous song
Here
On this side
Of the creek.
They complain
In the heat
Wait for the cool
When their song
Will grow more sweet
The birds.
They complain.

Choice does not require force

I get stuck
In either/or
When both/and is really
The name of the game.
Choice does not require
Force,
As in trying
To put the square peg
Into the round hole
But instead
Letting it find
The hole
That fits.

Don't forget

Don't forget
To write the new thing
As you meander
Through the old.
Something new
May appear first
And foremost.
Someone else
May pick it up
Before you see it.

Someone's accomplishment

This time it was only broken ribs (from this month's CPR) and gallstones.

I am
Someone's accomplishment
I am told I died
And came back.
Of course I do not remember
The death
Nor
The immediate arrival home.
The ER doctor told me
Last night
My chart
Is a story.
It is good
I returned
I could show how I look
Un-surrounded
By ice packs.
I forget
All have a part to play
In my return,
In anyone's return
The accomplishment
Is all of ours
Most of all
God's.

Respirator

My first, hopefully ONLY, experience with a respirator.  

I know
Sometimes it's necessary
But with a tube
We can not speak
When our hands are tied
We can not write
The words stay hidden.
Unspoken.
Unwritten.
Still there.
Others may speak in.
We may not speak
Out.
I may need
To speak for years
To recover
From the three day episode
With the tube
Just enough sedative
To hear.
Not speak.
Not write.

Catharine

I will not apologize
For the spelling of my name
Even though
Auto-correct thinks
It must be wrong.
It is right.
Yes
There is an A
In the middle.
No
I do not appreciate
It being automatically shortened
To Cathy
Unless you first knew me
By the nickname.
Then it is OK.
Then my aunt with the same name
Was alive.
Now I have earned the right
To be Catharine
With an A
In the middle.
Someone must carry the name
Forward.

How do we live

In memory of Jean Vanier, may he Rest in Peace, 

And
How do we live?
In sprinkles
Or holding each others feet
In warm water
To wash them tenderly
One at a time
So each knows herself
Loved.

Elevator speech

If Jesus
Had an elevator speech
What would it be?
He knew he didn't have a lot of time
To grab people's attention.
It's like this
He said
It's like this
Some people left with Him
On the twelfth floor
To hear more.

Black hole

The un-see-able
Has been seen. Theory proven.
One single picture.

Priest

Inspired by the book Maid, written by Stephanie Land.

Priest.
A book
Comes to me.
I have stories.
Some I can tell
Some only
In false nose
And glasses
Some
Not even then..
They hide in the caverns
Of my heart.

Breakfast with the birds

The world is filled with breakfast companions

They eat
So little
Except
By body weight
So much
They make charming
Breakfast companions
I would gladly
Feed them
More.

The small of it

Loss has a ripple effect.

We lose an hour
Tonight
But that
Is a pittance
In the Likert Scale
Of loss.
It often comes
Lasts for days
Upon days
Months
Or years.
Loss comes draped in black.
It can also come
With shiny shoes
So we think
We're dressing up
For Cinderella's ball.
We lose an hour
Tonight
But that
Is the small of it.

Some days are meant to sing

For the cardinals

Some days are meant
To sing
Some
Not so much.
In spring the birds
Know the song
They forgot
All winter.

Each word

Lent is to remember

Each word
Is part of the whole.
In our beginning
Came
One
Single
Word
Yet
Here we are.
We think
We are the only word
There is,
No matter how plural
Our only
Is.
We were all spun off
From that one
Common source.
We forget.
Lent
Is to remember.
Easter
Is to celebrate
The wholeness.

Order

Appetizers come first, unless they don't

Alphabetical
Numerical
Order
Give us order
Of any kind
We will march to it.
For example
Dessert always
Comes last
Appetizers
Come first.
Unless of course
It's time
To change
It up.

Magic mushrooms

Which side of the mushroom does today call for?

We live
On magic mushrooms
Some make us bigger
Some smaller
Some help us live
Exactly
Where we are.
Different days
Call
For different thoughts
Expand
Contract
Stay here
Exactly here.

Sincerity

Sincerity is not something to be taken for granted.

Sincere drivers
They mean
What they say:
Are you ok?
Oh look
I get to pick you up,
Take you home.
Sincere drivers
They mean
What they say.
I can tell.
My BS meter
Is always set
On high.
Morning
And evening
They are a gift.
Sincere drivers.

Dr. Seuss in translation

New ways to process the world order.

Huevos verdes con jamon
Don Ramon.
Translation requires
New thinking
New ways to process
The world order
Even
Maybe especially
In children's rhyme.
Even
Maybe especially
In Dr. Seuss.
Huevos verdes
Con jamon
Don Ramon.

Like a whirlpool

For my friends, all of them.

Like a whirlpool
The Church as a whole
Roils
With new understandings
Caught up
With old understandings
Meanwhile
Two women
Walk down the aisle
In wedding dresses
Two men
Stand before
The minister
Make their promises
To one another.
I wish it weren't
So hard.
Like a whirlpool
The church
Roils
Around
And
Around
Once again.
Two women.
Two men.
The Church

Reasons to return

Reasons to return

To school:
Your brain
Will not atrophy;
To reading:
New ideas
Will dance
In your head;
To napping:
Rest cures
A lot
Of ills
You have never named
Before,
As long as
You don't sleep
Your life
Away;
To spending time
With animals,
Any animals,
They are so much
More simple
Than we are,
Simplicity
Ranks high
In the order
Of things.

The rest is yet to come

Sometimes we get trapped into thinking what will come next.

And now
This morning
Now
Is all
There ever is
Ever.
Our childhood is
What it was.
Our future
Remains
To be seen,
Known,
Purchased.
Our loved ones
Continue
Loved
Thank God.
Here we are
Now.
What remains
To be lived
A yellow brick road
Long, winding
Before us
Scarecrows
Tin men
Witches
Along the way
Still
For now
Here we are,
This morning
Let's not
Get ahead
Of ourselves.
The rest is yet
To come.

The white room

Every other Friday Danuta helps me with the white room. The other Fridays, she cleans the house.

I hired someone
To help me tackle
The space
We lovingly call
The white room
White carpet
White walls
The door has been shut
For years
Except when we
Store a box there
Today we did
Two more boxes
Two more boxes
To go
And then come
The books
Not an easy feat
For a book person.







=

Gracious?

So often we think of ourselves as gracious or momentarily grumpy. 

Gracious
Versus ungracious
or simply
Momentarily grumpy.
We all
Have things to learn
Often one state
Comes more easily.
Sometimes
It's the time
We are found
As we walk in
Or out
The door.

My idol

I grew up with Mr. Rogers and his closet full of sweaters.

I take my sweater
Gray
Out of the closet
Pull on my boots
Brown
Go prepared to meet
The world,
Go prepared
To invite the world
In,
It's a wonderful day
In the neighborhood
A beautiful day
In the neighborhood
Will you be
My neighbor?
Won't you be
My neighbor?
Will you?
Won't you?
Today my sweater
Is gray
Tomorrow
It may be
Red.

Heart stone

Therapy, a beginning, though we began long ago

I must remember
The red iron ore heart stone
On the glass table.

The fountain flowing
In the background of the space
Sun through the windows

I locate myself
Green plaid chair, red soft pillows
At my back, my lap.

He locates himself
Pillow at his back, black chair,
Waits for me to talk.

New trope

For the friend who gave me this gift today.

When we come out
And
Into our own,
Life is fuller
There,
For us
And for those around.
It is tempting
To believe
The trope
We have finally
Figured it out
Still
There is no real figuring
Until we come out
And
Into our own.

Haiku walk

Taking small bites.

Find a location
Which commands
Your attention.
It may be large.
It may be small.
Write one haiku
After another,
Maybe twenty,
Maybe thirty.
Most places hold
More
Than one.
Come home.
Read them.
One may capture
Your experience
More than another.
Save them all.
Read them again
Tomorrow.
Save another.

Take another walk

Next week.

Repeat

Parking space

For Gretchen

When you offer
The parking space
You have just left
We are grateful.
Oh
So grateful.
It's the small things
That swell
Into
Larger things.

Snow tracks

I love the fox tracks in a line. How do they do that?

Bunny
Squirrel
Fox
I add my walker wheels
To them.
We join
Together
In the snow,
Tracks
Left behind.

Winter brown

We never know

Winter brown still cold

Snow gone but may come again

Maybe ice or not.

Think smaller

I knotted a net which was way too big.

The net I knotted
Would catch
Too many fish,
The wrong kind
Of fish.
I start over again
With a smaller net
Smaller knots.
Think smaller,
More specific.
This is what I have
A consultant for.
Throw the net
Off the other side
Of the boat.
She says.

A goodly heritage

As I think about my great grandfather, Thomas Sadler Roberts, part of my "goodly heritage," I remember others in my line who are part of the heritage I own. 

A goodly heritage
Is not enough
Unless
We add to it.
Unless we add
Our crumb
Fed to the birds
Around us
Seed
In the feeder.
A goodly heritage
Is not always
Children
Though we might
Name them so.
That is up to them.
A goodly heritage
Is meant to pass
As it might.
Words are mine.
A goodly heritage.

No mud, no lotus

Thank you, Donovan Ackley, III, for this Buddhist quotation. Entirely new to me. A gift.

I discover new things
Every day
Or they
Discover me.
No mud
No lotus
How right
Is this.
First come
The boots coated
In mud
Tramped through
The house
Then the lotus blooms
When I open
My eyes
No mud
No lotus.

Melt

Just as the weather has its way, so does water.

Watching the snow
Begin its melt
This will not be
The last time.
These things
Come and go
Go and come.
Water
In so many forms
We can only watch.
We are not
In charge.
Water
Has its ways.

Pfft

Our fears will catch us if we let them. Pfft

What if
I market myself
And no one
Buys?
What if
The world says
Pfft
If that is
In the world's
Vocabulary?
Which world
Is my market
Anyhow?
What if I need
To sell
Something else
To a completely
Different world?
There's no telling
All the markets
Out there.
My brain may not
Be thinking
Big enough
Or perhaps
Small enough.
Pfft I say
Pfft.

IBM Selectric

Another day I thought I would write something completely different.

We are continually
Examined
Up one side
Down another.
I sit and write
On the computer,
Remember I took
Ordination exams
On the IBM Selectric
A top of the line
Instrument.
Top of the line
Changes daily.
Most people these days
Do not even understand
The expression
Top of the line
And
IBM Selectric
Even less.
They are in handbooks
Of archaic machines
Archaic expressions.

One at a time

Grateful for a faucet that can drip. Warming buses. One person warmed, at a time. It matters to this one.

The faucet drips.
We will make it through
This cold snap.
Warming buses
Drive the streets
Of Chicago.
They find the people
Left behind
Always
Left behind.
Always
Always
Left behind.
It matters
To this one
It matters
To at least
This one.

Mouse breath

Red tennis shoes.

I think of
Kliban's cats
In red tennis shoes
Love to eat them mousies
They are cute
Those mice
Even when they have
No footwear
They are proud
Those cats
When they have
Something to show
For their efforts.

Haven

Can we keep them, Mom, can we keep them??

Our home
Is a haven
For mice
Until spring comes.
Spring will not arrive
For a couple months yet.
Meanwhile
Our home
Is a haven.
The turtle tank,
Empty of turtle,
Still sits
In the playroom.
It awaits
New purpose.
Soon
It will be
A mouse house.

No quitters

We can wait forever

She stalks the mouse
Now under the dresser.
She knows it will emerge
Soon
Until then
She waits.
No quitter
She.
Meanwhile
I wait
Downstairs.
No quitter
I.

Wrestling

With thanks to Dylan Thomas.

Do not go lightly
Into the night
When you are meant
To throw it down
On the mat
Wrestle it
Like Jacob wrestled
That angel
At the Jabbok.
Got his blessing.
Praise God
For blessings
However
They come
Whatever mark
They leave
Wherever
We may go.

I will be able to leave

Because I can not shovel snow does not mean I am home bound. 

Today
I will be able
To leave.
I hired some people
Who sought
To be hired
To clear the snow.
Today
I will be able
To move
Out the front door,
Be driven
To work.

Ode to blue chair

Here's to you, Callie Swanlund...for asking the question.

Where would I create
Without you?
Popcorn kernels
Coffee stains
The week's favorite puppet
The occasional cat
And all.
My soft blue blanket
When a chill
Overtakes me
Or when comfort
Is needed.
Oh Blue Chair
I have pictures
Of your childhood
On the wall.

Two penguins + baby makes three

And who cares? Couples have raised children all over the world.

They made the headlines
Named gay
Because they are males
Raising a baby
Together
How can we tell
Homosexual orientation
In penguins?

It will never be soon enough

It's dark.

It's midwinter
I already wait
For the daylight
To be saved
It will come back
Tomorrow
It will never be
Soon enough.
I wait
It seems I always
Wait
Like the child
In that proverbial
Back seat.
Are we there yet?
How about now?
What about now?

Emergency kits

It's more than 911

It's more than 911
It also ABC
Bleeding
Breathing
Poisoning
The Heimlich Maneuver
When steak gets stuck
It's also
Nalaxone
CPR
So many ways
To save
Our neighbor
So
So
So many ways
Yes
Call 911
Too.

Couplets

Sherman Hershfield stroke poetry...from Atlantic Monthly.

He spoke
In rhyming couplets
The brain
Does amazing things
Offers ways
To relate
To others
In rap
Or couplets
Even drive
Somewhere
And arrive
Unscathed
While the brain
Speaks
Out loud
In rap.

Company

All of us need company

We sit with those
Who live
And die
And in-between.
We stand with those
Who likewise
Figure which one
They will claim.
All of us
Are somewhere
In-between.
All of us
Need company.

Perspective

And this one may never be posted...anywhere.

What I see as gift
Another may see
As a scum-sucking creature
Who lives
Off the beauty
In the world.
So much beauty
To be shared
In so many
Different ways.
No need
For name-calling
Ever.

Consider the lilies

Jesus said Consider the lilies, they neither toil nor spin..."

Consider the lilies
Some grow
In gardens
Yet unseen.
Consider the lilies
Some have roots
That grow
Down deep.
Consider the lilies
That's all
Consider them.
They have
So much to offer
Yet
In our haste
To consider
Larger things
We miss them
Entirely.
Consider them
Just
Consider them
They often grow
By the side
Of the road.
Some
May call them
Weeds.

Even the full moon is not full

Our imaginations can limit us.

Even the full moon
Is not full.
There is always
A dark side,
A half we never see.
The Chinese have sent
A vessel
To explore
The oceans
On the dark side
Of the moon.
Is there a Sea of Tranquility
There?
What will they find?
We imagine
The dark side
Will look exactly
Like the side we see
On a full moon
Night.

National Bird Day

I'm not sure I want to know

In honor
Of National Bird Day
We see what
We can see.
A this
And a that
Soaring turkey vultures
A flash of red
Cranes overhead
We thought
They had
Moved on.
Where did you hide?
You should be
In New Mexico
In Texas
Perhaps even Mexico
By now
Oh no
Winter
Has yet
To arrive.
Where is it
Hiding?

Links

A new land.

I may never speak
Computerese
But some do.
I am hired
To do
Other things.
Now I wait
To be approved
By ten links
And then there's Google.
Another thing
Entirely.
I have entered
A different land
I may meet
Strange beasts
And have
Unique
Adventures.
Come with me.

In the name

Yesterday was not just New Year's Day but also Holy Name Day. Today we remember The Slaughter of the Holy Innocents.

In the Name
Of all that's Holy
Of everything
Holy
Can we please
Circle everyone
With halos
Of light
With rings
Of safety.
In That Name
Can we please
Hold off
The slaughter
Of the innocents
Which is everyone.