Christ’s Keeping

We make this life together,
our own dusty prints over the road;
our own hands making up
and turning down the beds;
our own mouths tasting
the bitter and the sweet, the salty and the sour;
like Rumi’s chick pea and cook,
we are each other’s teacher,
hitting each other with the skimming spoon,
boiling in our passions and in our sufferings,
in our mysteries and in our unknowings.
And these baby chick peas
we think we are cooking; they are
cooking us, the little gurus, the little lights,
the little creatures bedazzling our tapestry,
its bedraggled edges torn through sleeplessness
and sorrows.  We are all jumping in and out
of this blessing pot together, our understanding
deepened and flavored, our love seasoned and spiced.
Our beds warmed and cooled; you are my blanket,
I am your pillow; they our comforters, we their bed.
Our footprints pressing deep and creating distinction.
We carry each other over the road, through the joys.
Christ within us, keeping together.

For Thomas (On the Occasion of His Tenth Birthday)

Often you say to me, “I can’t believe you’re my mom.”
I choose to take this as a compliment.

Often I say to you, ” Please stop acting like an almost 10-year-old.”
I insist you take this as a compliment.

When I think of life a decade ago,
I wince at all my oozing pridefulness.

When you think of life a decade from now,
I pray you shine at all your humble grace.

The Yoking (A Prayer for Unity, Christian and Otherwise)

We are caught inside this swath of love
this massive yoking
where we love one and are all-loving,
this massive yoking
where we love all and are love’s focusing.
Christ’s mystery and enigma,
this yoking love, this kingdom becoming.

But in moments beneath love’s canopy
when rain falls for the thirsty and light shines for the hungry,
ice cracks brutal over the cold and heat scorches dry over the brittle.
So we walk under blue skies and dark ceilings,
through fresh breezes and dusty drafts.
We know the burdening yoke and its blessings,
the rough harness and its relief.

These are our joys and challenges,
the balance of a life,
the yoga of loving.

Oh, that we would have eyes to see and ears to hear,
hearts to love and hearts to be loved,
for in you all things are light.

Amen, amen.

Inspired by Pope Francis and Fr. Beaver’s calls for Christian unity, and by Jason Gray’s “With Every Act of Love.”