Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Dear Megan

Its quite a life
when phone calls become
calls for more faith
when watching
is silent like a mother
on Good Friday

I wanted to tell you
that I’m done with planning
I don’t know where I’ll be
next spring, and its because
you have become
acceptably unpredictable

in the eight months
that you have claimed life
I have been a beggar
burning alter candles
and solely a believer
in these eight months

beneath your pink dress
are the toes that curl
and above, your head
bopping and turning
at sounds I make
so attentive to love

the raising of your eyes
I see it even now
as you lie away
in your hospital crib
and the passing moments
render it second to home

Words

Swinging my legs
until I stopped them
in the dirt with my toes;

I was just saying words.

Silently bleeding
amidst snow falling,
I believed
I was in love and

that I was writing a book.

Stained glassed
light steeps
into my tears.
Captured by the power
of vulnerability:

I am being written.

Friday, December 01, 2006

God's Time

Today as I drove in my squeaky volvo down 7100, leaves fell from the sky and danced onto the windows of my car. They were just brown, and it's not that I want them to be any other color. I'm happy with brown.
Today my baby sister was born. I can't imagine the frustration of entering this world from the warmth and security of my mother's womb. But she won't remember her frustration just as I don't remember mine. I wouldn't want out of life, but I do believe that we can't know what we want while what we want exceeds the limits of our imagination.
Is it possible to obtain contentment while I don't understand it? And is it even possible to understand it, when I don't feel it? This night I feel like I could run endlessly, or until wearing holes pierce the soles of my shoes. My heart is only as it is, and I cannot understand even the very thing that sets my rhythm. I don't know any other way to describe it except hunger. I just want- something real and something I can grasp with my fingers. I need the physical reality, not just the promise that I am alive because I am loved.