Novice

When I was new again,

a novice,

I stumble,
girlishly chatty,
into myself.

It was impossible to argue
as I crumbled
into a heap
of exhaustion--

all that new light
still with uncertainty.

And yet, I quarreled stubbornly
as it is with the uninitiated,
with the mind
and all the oddities
of precarious squinting
at the rustic self.

I don't quarrel any more.

It is a practice to sit quiet
and notice dragonflies
circling the thoughts
of God

and the color
green that arrives
in early spring.

Pardon Prayer

On the night before you go under the knife,
I ask for pardon. I ask for grace
to erase the sins we've committed.

I ask for ease
into another way
of love

that is not about the body.

Forgive us for what we have done.
Forgive us for our longing.
Forgive us for our silence.
Forgive us for space.
Forgive us for all that we have left
undone.
Forgive us for our disease.
Forgive us for our fear
of the smallness of being alone.


Forgive us for what we cannot speak.

Forgive us for joy.

And,

in this space

of no words,

My God,forgive us.

Light Escapes Us

Is it too much to simply decompress
as these days of summer bleed
from my chilly skin,

a gentle lancing of the hot
raised places that will not heal?

Is it not enough to malinger
when it is indisputable
that the light escapes us
with each leaf that falls
and mildew begins to repossess
the cells of that new body?

It is grief that has taken my hand again
and asks me to walk slowly
on a lane near heart's abandoned home,
marveling with each step
at all these beautiful losses.

Calling

The phone crackles and groans with electrical impulses
as if to lecture to me about all the ways I have failed.

I extract a few words from this nocturnal swirl
and listen to my breath whisper comfort.

The sound of my voice is a lament

long clear tones of a bell

Each gong

a calling

to the love

of silence.