December’s Eve

This poem was written by a dear friend who decided our ideas were worthy of poetry. This is our organic, spontaneous, joyful collaboration. It spilled out of our connection, and she caught all the gems, arranging them with her time, effort, and energy, creating what you see below.

We had been talking & texting about life – the big existential kind of talking about life – and then a few weeks later she gave me a book, one of the most beautiful gifts I’ve received: Call Us What We Carry, a collection of poems by Amanda Gorman. When I opened the front cover I saw them – all of our words, and some new ones. She had collected our thoughts and organized them in verse. The beautiful fine-point black felt-tip ink of our words, written in her own hand, is stamped in my memory. My eyes filled up with tears when I realized what I was reading.

Who’s lucky enough to receive a gift such as this – this book, this poem – this friend?

December’s Eve

Instinct,
motivation,
necessity,
purpose,
meaning,
fulfillment,
nature,
humanity,
what was,
what is,
what’s to come,
what we wish for,
what we hope for,
what we wished for,
what we hoped for,
what we forgive,
what we allow,
what we choose,
what chooses us…

All
these
moments,
one after the other…

What do we love,
What do we love,
What do we love?

Photo by Anata Nsg on Pexels.com

A Wishing Prayer

Even if I never write again
past this moment
it is at God’s pleasure
that I wish to serve.

I read that Mother Theresa
thought of herself as a little pencil
that God moved as he liked.
I can offer my own little will
to God’s and he can move
my pencil as he likes.
I will not worry
about what comes out
and God can reveal himself
in whatever way pleases him.

Even if no one ever sees it
or ever reads it
I will write.
And even if my writing
never changes anyone
it will always change me.