A Day After Snow

The air is filled
with flashes of sun,
like it broke into bits
and the wind now blows it apart,
all these separate pieces, everywhere.

Countless more flecks of sun spin
through everything, too small to see,
hidden in the depths of us,
of creation, the depths of everywhere,
everything water in every form.

We bounce around the side roads to home
over ridges of frozen slushed snow,
see our frontyard snowmen smiling:
welcome sun, above, below, within, without;
temperatures change, miracles abound.

God beyond God

  “God is always beyond God, the iconoclast par excellence,
who over and over breaks out of the forms and symbols of our making.”
~ Bernard J. Lee, SM

I stand at the sink
scrubbing the shiny steel pan
when my littlest one asks me to read.

I ask for his patience,
one, two, three times, and
so he reads to me,

“Mom is beautiful, her hair,
her face, she is beautiful.
Her heart is love.”

And then I know
the vast and mighty love
that pours itself from the smallest vessels.

The Constancy of Light

We break away from God
in our own ways,
along our own lines,
the same cracks splintering again.

But remember when
your husband was gone
and your babies were crying
and you screamed?

Your light was shining then
just as it is now
only you couldn’t see it,
and it made no sound.

Remember when
there was nothing
but anger
and nothingness?

Your light was shining then
just as it is now
only you couldn’t feel it,
it was somehow unreachable.

Remember when
the dishwasher, laundry machine,
and oven broke during the same
week everyone was sick, and you cried?

Your light was shining then
just as it is now
only you couldn’t taste it,
and its aroma was undetectable.

We will mend, in time,
these breaks, the lines,
for your light, God’s light,
will shine through the cracks.