We could both be in there
still looking – laughing –
what are you doing? –
wondering
where will this go?
Tag Archives: poetry
A wanting in my wanting
If I could but draw will from the well
to fill my words –
to pray it not say it all the way through.
I have friends afar
I have friends afar,
moonlight people whose messages
arrive in the morning.
I answer and am
to them
a moonlight people too.
Box at Mass
I am the box
lid open
not big enough for God
so flat now
wide as a box can be
Oh say can you see
Me, the refugee?
My red-white eye
and blue blue sigh
and hope for self-evident truth?
You have given me to pray
You have given me to pray
and it’s like a slow tornado.
I’m sucked up in circles
and at the top am in the sun
and I say,
“Take me! Take me!”
But no, now I know
it’s not a prayer.
It’s a poem and me
fleeing again. I see
the people I love
and so slide down to them
through the last of the poem,
that old fire escape we had at school.
My daughter asked me what my purpose is
My daughter asked me what my purpose is
and I saw a flower.
It was blooming, but I
wasn’t yet, but would
yet, I hoped.
Hurry, it’s cold, it’s wet cold
Bakery girl,
what will rid us of your sadness?
You’ve carried it and still,
and I as well,
as bells have tolled
and dusks have walled
alleys away in silence.
That I might see
Is there an icon of eyes
of the dove
wings wide
just above the shoulder –
and of in the eyes
that branch
buried in the heart of Jesus?
All my worthless dying
Not to myself, just dying
Utrecht Journal 