the time came for me to run,
but i could not.
so cold.
i turned aside --
on the cement beside the mall window,
a sparrow.
i held on while it fought,
broken -- one last flutter
before stillness settled in
and all around
the very air we gasped
brought the chill of death
and beneath our breasts
the heartbeat of every broken child
thudded into silence
i realized my eyes were warm and wet.
i realized my head was wet and cold.
i said good-bye through the rain.
i turned aside.
so cold.
i ran, and ran, and ran.
it's warm at emily's.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
stay
people who were hurting, You helped.
people who were listening, You taught.
people who were waiting, You encouraged.
the repulsive, You touched.
the weak, You defended.
the lonely, You loved.
those self-righteous jerks who had it all wrapped up,
You yelled at
and kicked down from their sacred inordinations.
people who heard the story, glimpsed the plan,
and worked hard to be a part of it,
You stayed with.
stay with me, Lord Jesus.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
my hero
when the greatest problem facing me is lack-lustre floors,
my children lie tucked in their beds,
and thursday waits beside the stairs with a good-night kiss,
while all around you, the floor rises up to swallow your hope,
your child lies in her bed, sleeping and quietly trusting,
and tomorrow looms fierce and fearful and oh-so-tiring,
while we talk together of plans
and of pain, of love
and of remorse,
i don't know what to do
but pray that somehow,
i can be your hero, too.
my children lie tucked in their beds,
and thursday waits beside the stairs with a good-night kiss,
while all around you, the floor rises up to swallow your hope,
your child lies in her bed, sleeping and quietly trusting,
and tomorrow looms fierce and fearful and oh-so-tiring,
while we talk together of plans
and of pain, of love
and of remorse,
i don't know what to do
but pray that somehow,
i can be your hero, too.
Monday, October 10, 2011
the light
promises tucked inside rounded bellies,
secretly wrought for beauty
tiny sprouts shoving through Earth itself
just to be touched, held by the sun
almond eyes fluttering focus, peeking through
dark locks for love of morning
paper-barked trees reaching, stretching white
against mud and time for a chance to grow
women standing silent by kitchen sinks,
drunken with summer pouring in
golden bees with soft apples,
kissing open-mouthed upon the grass
withered men bent under the world,
rising up to face the light
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
you (for jelly bean)
lashes long and thick -- like long, thick lashes.
hair so silky-soft, it's like silky-soft hair.
you've got me at a loss.
you wrap around me like a koala;
kiss my neck with rosebud lips.
it's all been said before.
artists and poets and choirs of mothers --
they've all sung the praises of their beauties.
video-taped and scrap-booked up the wazoo.
but they haven't got you;
only i do,
and i can't shut up about it.
hair so silky-soft, it's like silky-soft hair.
you've got me at a loss.
you wrap around me like a koala;
kiss my neck with rosebud lips.
it's all been said before.
artists and poets and choirs of mothers --
they've all sung the praises of their beauties.
video-taped and scrap-booked up the wazoo.
but they haven't got you;
only i do,
and i can't shut up about it.
sweet time (for jelly bean)
well, you've eaten the head off your Scorpion cake;
i hope you're proud of yourself.
five years ago yesterday --
no, the day before yesterday --
my body thought it could handle you.
boy, was it wrong. and sore.
forty hours and one operation later,
a nurse handed you to your dad.
took you back, wiggled you a little,
had you cry the pink into your toes,
and handed you back.
you always do what you want.
in your own frigging sweet time.
i hope you're proud of yourself.
five years ago yesterday --
no, the day before yesterday --
my body thought it could handle you.
boy, was it wrong. and sore.
forty hours and one operation later,
a nurse handed you to your dad.
took you back, wiggled you a little,
had you cry the pink into your toes,
and handed you back.
you always do what you want.
in your own frigging sweet time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)