There is something holy
about the three of us
here in bed together,
a clouded sky at
snow’s first settling.When you came to us
we were only two,
you made three,
a sacred number.As you press against me
your gentle breathing
silky coat
a comfort to my day,
I am guarded from
that which diminishes
that which matters less.A ternary,
we sleep.
Woman, man, and dog.
See full reflection at JOURNEY/lex.
Passion
Only an occasional passing car to bring me down,
back to here,
I fall into breathing rhythm of Bremen’s half-sleep,
comforted in his watch,
heartbeat to heartbeat sync, we are One.I memorize the patterned beat of rolling tires
clipping cracks and asphalt riffs from frozen melts
outside my bedroom window.This is real ground under my feet.
In my undoing I learned to reassemble,
notice small syncopated taps, life entering
with each pant.Transformation does not make itself
on sidewalks under full sun. It is not
gleaming glitter sprinkled to make show.I align myself in formation not with rigid
anatomy, but with fine variation.An almost perfect petal, virginal white,
but for fragmented hue brushed
by an all-knowing hand, grace tenders awry.
He came not in perfection, but like me.Sacrifice does not mean to suffer, but
to make sacred.
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Author’s Note:
This is the first Lent in a very long while where I have not participated in traditional Christian ritual. I stepped away for a bit, not from Christ, but from form.
I realized that this is what Lent is all about. In the past, I couldn’t reach him, feel him, be me with him. I busied myself doing what I thought were the prayers and the actions that would show me the way. I never succeeded. I felt guilty. I wasn’t perfect in my form.
I rest in a different space now.
Transformation comes in small taps, bits and pieces, until I recognize it. Then it all comes tumbling down, only to reveal the Real.
We are all community. I find my Oneness in Jesus, but also see more. He expected that from us, hoped for this, I truly believe. He enfolded all to him reminding us that we have always been worthy – human, beast, plant, earth, water, air – all beloved.
When I falter thinking there is only one way, I remember that he came as I am, in our multifaceted, brilliantly brutal human way. There is no other way, but Oneness between all.
Shatter the form and let your soul rise. Allow those tiny taps to break you open to become One. Remember the root command – love one another.
More at JOURNEY/lex.
I release to You all that is fear.
I surrender my breath
to be filled with your life.I still myself so I may hear
your heartbeat.I settle within your compassion
to see others the way you see me.I rest, held in your palms,
in the wideness of creation.It is not my design, but yours.
May I let my wild being
flare in your fire, purified.May I realize myself
in your presence.May I walk my path side by side
knowing we are One.May I heal in your sacred unfolding,
trust deeply, dance lightly,
revel with abandon.May I lay down who I was,
and accept your Grace to become.
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NaPoWriMo Day 30 The end.
As in all endings, there is always a new beginning.
After sunset, as azure deepens into cobalt, I lay
myself down on a wrought iron table, a weatheredappointment to my backyard. It is a quiet wild place
with a simple narrative. Urban born coyotes, at times,in the distance. Rabbits, always rabbits, ignored
by my dog. Once, an owl. And recently, doves. My gazeabove through undulating branches of ash catches
a clear spot, a free peek at the universe. The afternoonstorm carried away July’s rage that christened our day,
yielding a healing baptism of breath. Cool flows over mybare arms, down my legs, around my feet. I would prefer
to guide each button until undone, dropping my liveryinto a puddle around my ankles leaving me unembellished.
But modesty, even in shapeless darkness, is pressed herein the suburbs. A red hot star, the color of harlots, of
Magdalene misunderstood, a flashback to the burnof midday, catches my eye with a blink. What does the
color red have to say about a soul seven times released?Are there demons I walk with unaware, each one’s
diminution a step closer to the Sacred? Sanguine flowedfrom His veins mapping a path. In my bittersweet days
I gaze into a mirror and see the Divine, leaving demonsbehind. In my face and yours I caress Brilliance and in
the night sky I am remembered, exaulted in a crimson flash.
To Create... 