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.