Published May 6th, 2013 by

That the Divine Finger

Touches all

Within—

That God’s presence moves the corpuscles and separates neutrons from protons–

Is enough to make me Wonder–and praise the nameless Deity–

In spite of convoluted passions and

Crazy zealots’ intent on PowerandControl–

Force-feeding wretched dogma into innocent

Hungry hearts searching.
I praise the God who cried through bushes burning

Who thunders the skies

Whose saliva might indeed be made up

Of what is known

As the human race!

That I could be a part of the spit

Inside the mouth of that who spoke the galaxies

Into being

Is more than I can ask!

That they might choose to cleanse me with it

And love me

Is the unfathomable mystery

To which I bow.

 

Published April 12th, 2013 by

The celestial beings hover over us

Nightly
Winking and turning their heads

To eye us in our slumber.
The moon makes the rounds

And never misses, not even an inch—

Scans from across the spheres

That umbrella our existence

Overhead.

The breath of the fresh wind

Carries seeds of hope and vibrance

In its sweeping motions

As it dusts the horizon

And offers fragrance to those

Who inhale nothing but their own

Smallish scent.
The tide beckons us

Into its vastness and blue-green mysteries—

Pulls us from our narrow dimensions

Into the wild inner depths, churning.

 

And the sun covers us in warmth,

Like Love swaddles unstable newborns in blankets,

To remind us of the original Womb:
Creation.
That when we kick into the vastness and kick into the empty space,
It scares us into screaming fearful fits,
Unless the cotton boundaries fold us safe

Into the grasp of the Cosmos

Who whispers with every orbit,
Daily, routinely:
“It will be okay.”

 

 

 

Published February 28th, 2013 by

Planted side by side, 12 trees

Once lined the drive, up

to our home where we live-

where we rest, work, play, cry.

 

Eighteen years they framed our periphery.

Markers of majesty, preceding

the front entry

like medieval trumpet players would announce

the crown.

 

Our kingdom was humble save for the long line

of towering trees

elegant and silent.
Never wavering or shedding.
Evergreen.

Ever present

for baby showers, pre-school parties, sixth grade graduation gatherings.

A landmark distinguishing

Us.

 

Once, the car collided with tree number 10.

Took out the lower section of branch like a tooth that’s been pulled.

Left a flower-shaped hollow in my bumper.

Both remain for all to

see.

 

And once, the little-tykes car was saved from the ten-foot drop

by tree number three

when the toddlers reigned.

 

But last week the downpour

drenched the earth

around tree number nine-

the lowest and first in line.

Like a relentless battering ram

the wind slammed!

Tore her from the ground.

Ransacked her roots

til her thirty foot body fell

Barricading the driveway.

She lay, still-

silent-

until I found her with my rear tires.

I didn’t know.

 

Yesterday we lost her to the chainsaw.

Placed her in a rented trash bin

six-feet-by-four feet.

 

Her severed roots, twisted

and bundled round a mound of dirt-

perch above the gaping hole-

a gutted soul-

like a tombstone.

 

Doused by storm

she soaked in the water

like a cistern.

Blocked the wind

like a frontline soldier absorbs the first fire during battle-

Fulfilled her position as Protector

of trees 1-8 and 10-12.