Can this cup
pass from me?
Dear sister,
Dear brother,
Where is your love
for our Father,
our Mother,
me?
The love of many shall wax cold.
And here we are,
vomiting poison
until the grass around us
begins to roil
into
lava.
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Love that Means Courage
A simple hug:
Chest to chest,
Arms wrapped tight.
Bracing hug from weary husband to crumpled wife.
Head tentatively rests
Against his shoulder.
The tightness of heart
Lets go.
And the heart finally beats:
A warmth
And awakening
To the kind of love
That means courage.
Fingertips
When in distress, try listening to your fingertips instead of your thoughts. The warmth of slowly folding laundry can offer a beauty, truth, and renewal that our spiraling thoughts cannot.
Severed
Too often
our truths
only
lurk
in our depths,
only skulk,
only shy.
And our complex
mouth and eyes
and cells and skins
flap on with the rubber grace
of severed organs–
Severed from the healing roots
of sanity
and self
and
reality
that, sadly,
only lurks.
In the Corners
Some days I can only find peace in the corners and gaps that dimple the elbows of chaos. Yet, somehow, at the end of the day, those little gaps allow me to stare up my Goliath of chaos and say, “Yes, even you have been my friend today.” And we walk on together in stillness.
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