Category Archives: Poems

I turn to see her,

I turn to see her,
the little stuffed donkey
hanging from her right hand
bobs while she explains her thoughts to me,
both hands whirling in the air:

“You know, Mom,
I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you,
when I was first born,
when I first came out,
that I care about you;
because I do,
I did,
care about you,
but I couldn’t tell you;
I couldn’t say any words.”

“You know,”
I replied,
turning back to straighten piles of papers
and stacks of books that collect on the piano top,
“I cared about you, too,
even before you came out –
even before you were born!”

We look at each other, then,
and giggle at the joy of it.

Joy (IV)

“Joy comes to those who in a sense forget themselves and become totally aware of the other.” ~Blessed Teresa of Calcutta

Blooms of Selflessness

Water drips from bags, buckets, and bins
we pull from the basement

and we throw the moldy trash
over the top, into the bin

and hear it crash
through the silence

we keep quiet about the massive
job ahead, assigning missions

to the kids, keeping even ourselves
quiet and distracted

each working for the other’s
sanity knowing it comes

with the time and the space
we make, we create alcoves

of patience and dance around
the pools, build bridges of possibility

and hope, and watching the water recede
we forget ourselves in the giving

and find ourselves in the receiving,
blooms of selflessness

floating in
and out with the tide.

Joy (III)

“The joy of the risen Lord is the sunshine of our Father’s love. The joy of Jesus is the hope of eternal happiness. The joy of Jesus is the flame of burning love. Easter is this joy. However, you cannot have joy without sacrifice. That is why Good Friday comes before Easter.” ~Blessed Teresa of Calcutta

I will move the dishes

I will move the dishes
sparkling from one spot to another

while more collect wet and crumby
in the basin, brought by little hands

I toss the ones that fall and crack
in time and space

knowing the shards and soothing assurances
collect beyond our watery universe

we wait for storms to pass overhead
and underfoot we find buried grace

the water cannot touch,
flames burning inside

innumerable tombs with heavy stones
sealed and lost days ago, years ago

opening now, shrouds of holiness,
smiles behind the mess of broken cups

we build mosaics of hope and joy
with all that glass for restoration day

knowing each time our work is washed away
in time and space we are built up better than before

we wait for miracles of light
everlasting joy we choose again

and again moving
the sparkling dishes from one spot to another

we find the shroud of holiness
the everlasting flame of burning love

beneath the wet and crumby plates, cups, bowls,
shards in our mosaic

we are monks watching mandalas
disappear

our work swept up into the mystery
of light,

life, love,
and the undulating tide of time and space.