Tag: prayer

poetry

Trees & Eggs

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Trees & Eggs

finally I give away something we don’t use
to someone who doesn’t have it:
plastic Easter eggs
I haven’t filled in years –
our sun reducing the contents to chocolate puddles
before the cousins could even assemble
no, all we do now is hide the hard-boileds

today we tint the thin white shells
in spring shades
ready to disappear them into the waking-up grass
we save the chocolate for the basket
safe in the shaded confines of our roofed house
high on a table safe from dogs’ jaws

today I start reading Nine Ways to Charm a Dryad
at the cabin and am overcome –
it’s been so long since I lived in forest –
(36 years) –
so long I hadn’t guessed we’d reunite

all I can say’s
thank you God for all these blessings

all I can do is
bless myself with spring water
shake the grandfather tree’s branch
open my heart
and let the forest take up residence
in that long-vacant cavity

poetry

mud people

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mud people

Then there were the first humans, whose job it was to offer prayer, tell stories, and remember the passage of time. Made of the clay of this earth, the mud people of the first creation did not endure; when it rained, their bodies grew soft and dissolved.
– “Creations” from Dwellings by Linda Hogan

mud people
we soft squish
puddle and
wear away

tears run rivulets
into furrows into
cracks into
crumbles

we have no hard
to hang onto
no set stone spine

instead we bend bow sway
pray palms high
heart pressed low to
earth’s chest listening
to pulse and wave
pliant supplicants
consumed by awe

all we need
is to make:
prayer / tale
sound salve
time taste

and for you to please take
what our muddy palms
hold out open
trembling

poetry

Hashkiveinu* for Jared Polis

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Hashkiveinu* for Jared Polis

putting our lives back together
one pillowcase plate and
disconnected pipe at a time

while around us
we feel America
falling apart

how strong
will the blue bruise of Boulder
stand

against El Paso and Weld’s red
in this fairly purple state
that, despite its
humbling mountains
still has its share
of selfish bastards
is still enamored of
cowboys and renegades
western liberty and
the exceptionalism
you find in open spaces

thank you, God, for
our Boulder-born governor

Grant, O Governor, that we lie down in peace,
and raise us up, our Governor, to life renewed.
Spread over us the shelter of Your peace.
Guide us with Your good counsel;
for Your Name’s sake, be our help.
Shield and shelter us
beneath the shadow of Your wings.
Defend us against enemies,
illness,
war,
famine
and sorrow.
Distance us from wrongdoing.
For You, Governor,
watch over us and deliver us.
For You, Governor,
are gracious and merciful.
Guard our going and coming,
to life and to peace evermore.

*The last stanza is an adaptation of the Hashkiveinu prayer.

poetry

the mercy of the heavens

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the mercy of the heavens

yesterday the mountain spoke
with a raspy, parched voice
green going to brown
supple turning to crisp

today the clouds heard and answered
with half a day of rain
and such chill damp
that I split wood and lit the stove

tomorrow I will go out
into the newly wet and green world
to smell loosed resin and steaming duff
and recollect the appearance
of a simple answered prayer

poetry

morning invocation

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morning invocation

today the world is sweet
my eyes can and do open
hands clasp
tongue speaks
lips smile

I inhale the breath of trees
and exhale desert wildflowers
blooming at the slightest sign of rain

here we are
all having hit the jackpot
here on this same swirled sphere
together at this very moment

we draw breath
and open to hear the universe call out
a way to ease pain today
and we will

poetry

charm

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charm

by the gas station
incense changes my mood
the little red shrine has been visited
and offerings made

candles flicker and a thin trail of smoke
from the glowing sticks
matches a flow of good will and energy

flames give movement, life
to the unnamed warrior guarding
this otherwise nondescript
strip mall
slaying inattentiveness

poetry

thank you for prayers answered

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thank you for prayers answered

my life like every other
one string of miracles awaiting notice

my genesis two unlikely souls entangling

my first heartbeat echoing
her warm thrum of love
that has borne me through all my days

the luck of having a sister
of being not-alone growing up
growing older

the two loving grandfathers
who saw me whole
and hugged me at every chance

the teachers who cared for me
who made my wandering path seem
a matter of course

the creek and lake and ocean water
that dissolved any bits of world-weariness

my high school friends who claimed me gladly
innocently swinging under a circle of moon

my college friends
who I didn’t need to explain myself to
the kind of people I had hoped existed

especially that tall skinny boy with steady hands
calm competence
flashing mischievous eyes
and a romantic calculator
who pulled me close
and hung on through everything
through uneventful years
and life-altering moments

for the soft warm fur of a clever loyal dog
and the home I always dreamed of
lace curtains books on shelves and peace

and the children I couldn’t have dreamed up
so their own incomparable souls
and I so lucky to live beside them

for my friends today
these real raw devoted fierce compassionate endlessly-giving
beings I trust and turn to and emulate

for the luxury of time to be not do
the great joy of purpose and belonging to all that is
the unasked for beauty strewn about us all everyday

and, today, our son’s sweet journal
with its sincere silly sketches
and inscribed delible memories
returned to him by a kind stranger’s hand

for all these gifts seen and unseen
Lord, I am not worthy to receive them
but only say the word
and I shall be healed.

poetry

Plea for Saved Memories

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Plea for Saved Memories

Dear Saint Anthony
Saint Francis de Sales
Our Lady of Perpetual Help:

let the little notebook
of earnest words

the cheerful sketches
of intrepid animals
visiting unthinkable actual places

the carefully curved letters
and the ones scratched in an angry rush

the endless synonyms
hand-spun for awesome

the good days and bad
sunrises lions waterfalls pufferfish sunsets

be found

and if it be not found

let all those days sights feelings smells hopes dreams
settle in deeply
to the heart-home that gathered them
and let him bring them out
when they are needed
for he worked so very hard
to note the magic as it was made

poetry

Prayer to End Bickering

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Prayer to End Bickering

3 ways to hurt:
 silence
ridicule
selfishness

3 ways to heal:
 communication
kindness
generosity

Our Father
who art I-know-not-where
hallowed be all your manifestations
o place within my fumbling grasp
the sword of wisdom
and guide my hand
to carve peace
in our little 4-roomed home
in the 4 chambers of our hearts
in our 4 doubting minds
so that we each
first do no (more) harm