Falling Plum Poetry

Mini-Series

2012-01-30T08:58:00.002-05:00

@ 14,
I hung onto
the romance,
tantalizing, subtle,
and somehow, intelligent,
it became what I longed for.

@ 50,
I cry for their lost chances.

2011-12-27T18:52:00.000-05:00

Mistaking him for her brother,
he cuts off
thirty years.

Realization

2011-12-27T18:50:00.000-05:00

An old woman,
too plump to be pretty,
my lipstick travels outside
the lines.

A Christmas Poem

2011-12-25T16:05:00.002-05:00

In the bleak midwinter
the Christ Child again
asks to enter into our hearts
and melt the ice that insists
on forming there
against our better judgment --
our attempts at thawing
only serving to set it afire
in a soul-consuming explosion--
our attempts at cooling
turning it once again
to ice.

2011-11-05T20:37:00.000-04:00

To rage against
humanity,
fist clenched
and eyes--
is to be blind
to the effect
of the rage
on ourselves.

2011-11-05T20:22:00.000-04:00

If you run away
from hypocrisy
and cruelty
or run towards them
brandishing the sword
of hatred
you will only breed
that which you so abhor.
Embrace
and let go
knowing that
deep down
you are no better;
no worse
than any.

The Farm Cats

2011-10-13T22:47:00.000-04:00

Where do the farm cats go when it rains?
In the absence of moonlight, do they get lost in the maze?
Do they hunker down among the aging corn,
with their fur puffed up and their eyes squeezed shut
or do they stick out their tongues
to catch the raindrops and splash in the puddles
while the farmer is sits inside
and eats
his soup?.

This Time

2011-07-23T21:57:00.001-04:00

This summer

in this city

brings me back to troubled times

announced in hushed tones

on black

and white

tv; it formed the soundtrack of our lives.

This time it's so hot

that money melts

quicker than we can make it;

quicker than the company

can decide

to put enough aside

to throw our way

like the the biblical rich man

to the dogs.

This time, the violence is horrifically new

and yet, pit-of-the-stomach familiar.

All in HD

24 hours a day

for our eternal
entertainment.

This time, we are walled away,

each alone in our

climate-controlled cubicle

complete with computer

that goes everywhere we go

to distract us

from reality.

It is happening again,

but this time,

I don't see

a revolution.

The Gardeners

2011-07-17T20:23:00.000-04:00

The gardeners are out,
the gardens transformed
into neat little plants
unhindered by neighbors
sitting alone
in deep rich soil
they mirror their owners
while I
cultivate my weeds
growing randomly
this way and that
like my thoughts
and my words
they are not rich
but they are
prolific.

Oz

2011-07-17T20:17:00.000-04:00

On the empty shelf lies no
witch's crystal.

The tiny house
lands firmly in the present
with a decisive thud.

The future in its
fullness
has
faded.

2011-07-17T19:12:00.001-04:00

She explained her reluctance
to divorce him
over a glass
of chilled wine
the color of her aging
blood.

She leaned in close.

It is because,
she whispered,
someone
is
always watching.

Whisperer

2011-07-02T22:29:00.000-04:00

I want to
lean close
and whisper
softly in your ear
to calm your
restless soul.

Softly,
so only you
can hear;
and the candle
doesn't
go out.

2011-06-11T10:07:00.000-04:00

the path is being built
stone by stone
by those in our lives
who stop and lay down
a tile
to help

To My Mind's Ideal

2011-05-30T10:59:00.000-04:00

I'm not in your league
of nations
my brain doesn't work that way.
It doesn't wake up
all organized
at the start of
a brand new day.
It doesn't file the spices
in neat and tidy rows
it doesn't have a to-do list
everywhere it goes.

I stumble and struggle
to function
to do what I'm meant to do--
to keep my head above water
much less to keep up with you.

I try to keep up my self image
as it climbs up and falls off the cliff.
It shuts itself down--its in free-fall
and nothing I do makes a difference.

I don't understand how my mind works
from whence its weird thoughts
come to pass
I'm just not the person
I've looked for.
I don't have that level
of class.

My Eden

2011-05-28T19:53:00.000-04:00

After a day of furious weeding,
I cook a quick meal
of curry chicken and peas
and sit on the porch

The evening sun filters in
and softly falls on the
peaceful madonna
that stands on the
chest-of-drawers,
teaching her Child to read.

The rose in the vase
has past its prime;
the dogwood bloom
bows in reverence.

My tired mind has ceased
its attentionless rambling.

God walks the earth.

Witch on a Stick

2011-05-15T17:03:00.000-04:00

I'm standing on the porch
with my witch-on-a-stick.
Surrounded by orange-and-black
gobblined children,
the witch starts
to foretell their
frightening futures.

2011-05-15T13:54:00.000-04:00

My lilacs, like me, are late bloomers,
struggling on the side of a rocky hill
between the cactus and the pine,
they manage to bring forth flowers
while holding off the
unwanted attentions
of the brash forsythia.

2011-05-11T19:50:00.000-04:00

My life passed before my eyes
in a moment
my hair went from dark to gray
and people came in
and out
of my life
in a horrifying flash
of recognition
I saw the results
of decades of decisions
in a sickening
decrescendo.

Tea, Time and Tears

2011-05-10T07:43:00.000-04:00

She sits in the dark
with tea and old photos
mourning the inevitable changes
that come with the
passing of time.

The changes are
a shock
to her system
as if suddenly
she woke up one day
and the children were grown
the hair was grey
and the relationships
were skewed
like an old
pair of glasses
she'd forgotten
she was wearing.

2011-05-05T21:16:00.000-04:00

I want the peace
that comes from a life
complete
with musical
accompaniment.

2011-05-05T20:16:00.001-04:00

I think my dog
writes poetry
as she lays on the couch
and sighs.

I think
she's writing
the poems that I'm not.

Perhaps they are floating
from my brain
to hers
before I can catch them

like those fluffy milkweed seeds
born away by the winds
of my childhood
before I could grab them and
make a wish.

Soul Lent

2011-04-17T15:00:00.000-04:00

dark nights
and overcast days
   of the soul
come and go like the tides--
barely apologetic,
   drought and dry,
or suddenly flooded--
   trembling and afraid
in the back of the cave
seeking safety
striving for some small sight
crouching in the damp and musty corner
not knowing
there is life
outside.

2011-03-23T10:12:00.000-04:00

Surprisingly, the shoes fit,
comfortable as they are expensive.
But, at what price?
After betraying myself
for a bit of bling
I flee to the
comfort of a
well-worn, broken in pair
who accepts me
as I am.

Juxtaposition

2011-03-17T12:41:00.001-04:00

Tragedy happens

while the blinding sun shines

and oblivious tourists walk

on the steaming hot boardwalk

in cheap flip flops

and seasonal tans.

2011-03-14T21:01:00.002-04:00

What can we do to reach across time

and change things

that we had nothing to do with

but were only

random occurrences

in the long timeline

of lives

that intersected ours?

2011-02-20T09:01:00.003-05:00

As the senses begin

to thicken like an abandoned stream

full of yesterday's sediment,

the inner eye

is sharpened.

The past and present

knit together

with acidic

nightmarish clarity

and the full garment

comes at last

into focus.

Eucharist

2011-02-11T06:58:00.002-05:00

Wrapped in the gold
of Divinity,
You offer us
the sweetness
of Your Love,
given to us
by human kindness.
Taste and see
the goodness
of the Lord.

Searching for Words

2011-01-03T12:41:00.000-05:00

As the waters of the everyday
lap, and sometimes crash,
onto the shores of my life,
they erase the words
written with careful fingers
over the decades.

I gesticulate wildly
more often now,
trying to fish out the right word
or any word, really
to effectively communicate
what just might disappear
like an aging dandelion
before I can capture it.

Outdoor Shrine

2010-12-21T15:42:00.001-05:00

The tiny candle,
flame struggling
in the bitter cold,
sends out its
sincere prayers
to the heavens.

Fallen Angel

2010-12-20T06:59:00.000-05:00

I limp along the road
with broken wings
from years of blindly
flying into things.

My halo tarnished
and my feathers worn
I look upon the others
and I mourn

the opportunities
and concord missed
because I did not
fit onto their list

of gleaming halo,
feathers, blinding white
untouched by life
and uncorrupt' by night.

Falling down the rabbit hole

2010-12-16T15:17:00.000-05:00

Falling down the rabbit hole
twirling, swirling down the
narrowing funnel,
I go faster
as I get near
the
end.

Coming Late to Grace

2010-10-30T20:30:00.000-04:00

Unseen and unrecognized,
Grace always come through
and I see it
only afterwards
with the certainty
of the one who's read
the ending
of the book

2010-10-16T20:47:00.006-04:00

At forty-nine, I'm one again
hands clenched tightly
on my lap
pretending no one notices
I look 'round
to see
what is expected
trying
to learn
the language
trying--
guessing
at
normal
This time
only FEELING
bald

2010-08-04T15:58:00.000-04:00

Like an awkward adolescent,

the queen anne's lace

grows unnaturally tall,

lean and lanky,

in the summer heat

and does not realize

how beautiful she really is.

The Better Angels

2010-07-28T20:56:00.001-04:00

By this time,
I know the better angels
of my nature*
disagree.

*With thanks to Abraham Lincoln for the metaphor. (image and quote from Lincoln's first inaugural address.)
One Single Impression Prompt: Angels

From the place inside my head

2010-07-28T20:51:00.000-04:00

I was reminded today
that we are each stuck
inside our own minds
trying desperately
to get out
and connect with other people.*
That is the POINT
of life--to get OUT of our
minds and CONNECT.

This means that we will have
our delicate toes
stepped on
by those who don't realize they are there.

Our hopes will be shattered like
delicate china cups
and the tea they contain
will spill all over
the linoleum floor.

We will cry our own tears
and laugh our own laughter
at how alike we are
and how different
from
those we love.

*Hat tip to John Green for the image.

Preponderance

2010-07-19T20:59:00.000-04:00

Eventually,

there is no longer a preponderance

of money

or time

but of memories

and of love

This week's One Single Impression Prompt: Preponderance

Illusion

2010-07-19T20:58:00.000-04:00

The undulating heat waves

rise up from the miles of

ever-increasing black top,
creating a wavy wall of illusion,
telling us that we are
detached from our world,
safe in our air conditioned buildings
living our virtual lives
until the heat is gone.

Overt

2010-07-12T23:54:00.001-04:00

You notice my feelings,
barely hidden by my mind's
frail denial,
scoop them up
tenderly
and hand them back to me
in your gentle, outstretched hands.

Summer Antiquing

2010-06-26T18:29:00.000-04:00

Other peoples' things
sit, collecting dust,
on a crowded shelf,
waiting to stir up murky memories
which swirl around aimlessly
like soft, grey mud
at the bottom of the bay
when you step
oh so carefully
on a summer's evening.

2010-06-17T08:24:00.001-04:00

Let me soar

to the heights.

Let me sever the strings

that hold me to the earth--

that are held so tightly
by those on the ground.

Let go

of the lines

that hold me

to the shore

and let me float,

my sails filled

with the breath

of the Spirit.

2010-04-14T17:31:00.000-04:00

In the late afternoon sun
I walk across the parking lot
willing my middle aged brain
to find where I left my vehicle.

I look up to realize
I am surrounded
by cars.

They hover
like giant square bees,
their turn signals nervously blinking.
Each one is certain
that they are the
anointed successor
to my soon to be vacated parking space.

2010-03-10T14:11:00.000-05:00

A room of one's own, says Virginia,
is necessary to write Shakespeare,
but is it necessary
to be happy?
What remains after the
dust kicked up by the earthquake of life
settles? Is there anything underneath?

Perhaps Words remain.
Words to God. Words to self.
Words to the clean, crisp air,
floating out like silent sound waves
ready to be heard
by some secret someone
in an unseen future.

Uncanny

2010-01-31T17:29:00.000-05:00

from dead to living
in unspoken alliance--
habits are passed

This week's Haiku Bones Prompt--Uncanny

The Mirror

2010-01-27T18:53:00.000-05:00

She rises, sightless, from her bed
and walks about the house,
comforted in its inky blackness;
Aware of an unseen trajectory
each obstacle is avoided by visionless eyes.

She comes upon a wall and
gazes in terror...
the sound of a scream
piercing her agreeable dormancy,
and sees her own
face.

2010-01-18T15:15:00.002-05:00

The years pass by.
The incandescent twinkle
in his eyes remains.

2010-01-18T07:13:00.001-05:00

I watch the world,
silent, and black and white--
exploding rain drops

2010-01-16T21:36:00.001-05:00

dressed in our finest

we smile for the camera

I look away

2010-01-12T14:17:00.003-05:00

horses in the snow
looking for edible grass
a lone pine tree

2010-01-06T07:26:00.001-05:00

losing energy
tired; sighing quietly

mournful teapot

2010-01-04T16:09:00.000-05:00

Time disappears;
hearts electrify across telephone wires

winter static

2010-01-04T10:48:00.003-05:00

we take refuge

from the winter wind

the fly and I

2009-12-31T09:33:00.001-05:00

soft snow encloses
the world
in the silence
of new year's regrets

The First Creche

2009-12-20T18:09:00.001-05:00

The fire light

casts its soft glow

on Mary's face

as she prepares
for the birth of her son.

The animals wait too
in quiet anticipation
for the new baby
that will soon be sharing
their manger.

Scholars watch the stars.

Shepherds sleep in the cold.

In another place
and another time,
brought together by worship
and sacrament,
a poor man named Francis
gets on his knees
and worships the Savior.

2009-12-12T21:17:00.000-05:00

Skeleton trees stretch their gnarled branches

to the cold grey sky,

reaching their arthritic fingers

past the falling snow.

Our joints ache.

2009-12-12T20:51:00.000-05:00

winter resurrection
a friend's face
on Google chrome

2009-12-04T12:35:00.002-05:00

Pale and cold,

I dream of the tropics

and stare at the ceiling--

winter blood test.

2009-12-04T12:35:00.000-05:00

Pale and cold,
I warm my hands
on the red mug--
winter blood test.

2009-12-04T12:24:00.001-05:00

pale and cold
dreams of tropical islands
December
blood test

Spiritual Flu

2009-12-02T13:44:00.000-05:00

Just when the ride becomes easy,
just when I become complacent
God has me on my mental knees
begging Jesus and the saints
for mercy and prayers.

As my world spins and twists
out of control,
I grasp in blind panic
for something solid--
something to stop the world
from whirling
and me
from vomiting up
my center of gravity.

2009-11-12T19:59:00.002-05:00

The joyous days

of past Novembers

ring silently

in my waiting heart

as the early chill

deepens in this

season

of early goodbyes.

2009-11-11T10:15:00.002-05:00

black cat leading me,
half asleep, to the food bowl
midnight snack

2009-11-01T18:17:00.000-05:00

Where are the stars, Lord?

They used to hover

in the sky,

scintillating, moving,

as though alive

Huddled together

in numberless throng

like angels

orchestrating an eternal song.

They are not there--

I've searched for them at night.

We've frightened them away

with self-centered, artificial light.

We animate our nights with

artificial glare

until we can not see

that You are there.

Teach us to see the stars again, Oh Lord.

Help us to find them

and our faith

restored.

Holy Soul

2009-11-01T15:55:00.001-05:00

Weep if you can.
Mourn if you will,
but pray,
pray,
pray.

Pray for me
for I will be gone
to fight my demons
one last time.

To do the work
I would not do
on earth.

I cowered in fear
from my own imperfections,
preferring instead
to hold them to myself
like a tattered blanket
soiled and torn;
useless yet oddly comforting.

I will not be able to
pray for myself

and yet I will know.

I will know
to the core of my being that
I am not worthy
to come under His roof.

I will know
like a thirsting man
yearns for water
that I need God.

The illustration for this poem is All Soul's Day by William Bouguereau. To purchase this picture, and see others by Bouguereau, visit the Art Renewal Center.

Life's Laundry

2009-10-27T15:06:00.002-04:00

large load
cold/cold
agitate
high heat

heavy duty
extra soiled
fast!
spin!

delicate

2009-10-09T19:57:00.003-04:00

the years disappear
like the leaves
on the trees
called by the bright
afternoon sun
i remember
afternoons in the park
bikes and guitars
walks and talks and time
stretched ahead of us
into the summer
of eternity

2009-10-07T09:14:00.001-04:00

Red, gently applied over yellow

with a dry brush.

Cold apple.

Facebook Falls Silent

2009-10-05T10:26:00.005-04:00

Facebook falls silent when a friend is dying.

Somehow the banal updates
about the torturous nature of daily chores
seem disrespectful
when multiple communities
on 2 coasts
are in deep mourning
over a life--
so well lived--
that will end
way too soon.

We all are saying the same things
to him
and to each other.
Prayers are being said,
novenas offered.

Memories resurface;
regrets are mulled over.

Time has been cruelly compressed.

Suddenly
we see
the end
of the road.

The News

2009-10-03T09:30:00.001-04:00

After the news
we held our loved ones long and hard
as if to make them real
and remind us we were still alive.

Winter

2009-09-26T19:15:00.001-04:00

Winter falls.
Cold surrounds
and tightens
her icy fingers
on our souls.

Chilling raindrops
are lost in the
inky darkness
which
slowly seeps
under the windows and doors
that we have determinedly
shut against it
and we are powerless to
stop the advance.

We put the kettle to boil,
wrap ourselves in blankets,
curl up with a book
and wait.

The Edge of Night

2009-09-23T13:47:00.002-04:00

I lie awake
in restless dreams.

I watch the
pairs of people.

Two with red hair and black hats,
walk quickly away.

I wonder
how will they hide themselves
with their flaming hair
peaking rebelliously out of the their charcoal fedoras.

I follow people
through confusing corridors
and notice
they are dressed
from another time
and place.
Refusing to come out
from behind
their inflexible homogeneity,
they will not join *this* group.

I see two brothers, unnaturally attached
in inexplicable ways.
I ask
how is one
born of the other
and never get
an answer.

I watch the pairs
of people.

I watch
from the
edge.

Transition

2009-09-23T13:27:00.000-04:00

Curled up in a ball,
my vulnerable spine
exposed
I am
in transition.

My Voice

2009-09-10T21:07:00.001-04:00

My life lies
at the bottom
of a large, cast iron pot.

I stir
and stir
over a s l o w fire
for decades of years

until I discover

the thick, burned,
elemental crust

that is

my voice.

2009-09-10T07:46:00.000-04:00

I weave
my weird
world

back and forth
weft and warp

hardened by fear
my own engineer

i discover with horror
i'm stuck in here.

The Adolescent Time

2009-09-08T19:40:00.000-04:00

September is the adolescent time.

Hot one day, and cold the next,

it slams the door of summer
on our eager faces
before coming back
and inviting us
to swim.

2009-09-02T16:46:00.000-04:00

crying in alarm

at mother's abrupt parting

a baby bird sings

2009-08-27T09:32:00.002-04:00

small and brown
in God's ecosystem
tiny bird

Originally published March 16, 2007

2009-08-19T18:30:00.000-04:00

As I lie by the pool
the thoughts pour in
with the hot summer sun
barely muffled
by the sound of running water
and screaming children.

The tiny waves beckon softly
and I walk in
to the water
made for me--
caressing, gentle, temperature-perfect
and I am grateful
for the now.

The Colors of Aging

2009-08-15T20:35:00.002-04:00

After years of pretending,
she grows her hair gray
to show the world
what it has done,
like Jackie Kennedy
who wanted everyone to see
the blood
of her husband
on her
pink suit.

August

2009-08-15T13:40:00.001-04:00

Someone is stoking the furnace.
The coal has been shoveled in--
little by little-- all summer
and is now being lit with a heavy hand.

The world is surreal
in the wavy mirage
that is the final time
between relaxation
and responsibility.

Summer hopes give way
to monsters in the closet
and solitary naked dreamers
in clothed classrooms
taking tests
for which
they have
not
studied.

For Mike

2009-08-11T07:33:00.002-04:00

In the evening,

boats rest in soft sunlight.

Osprey and gulls quiet

their daily complaints

as humanity

brings its day

to a close.

The pungent smell of

gas mixed with oil

rises from the docks.

I wait for my love.

Time

2009-08-11T07:19:00.003-04:00

The mind
circles back
again
and again
replaying those things
not yet erased
by the ensuing seconds
which tick relentlessly
over lifetimes.

And through the
sand-filled hour glass
time slips quickly
and is as impossible to
hold back
as a screaming child
on a summer water slide.

2009-08-06T23:12:00.001-04:00

bare tree
in summer growing
marshmallow sticks

In Heaven's Presence

2009-07-30T21:38:00.001-04:00

We are surrounded
by light,
white
and blinding--
beauty unsurpassed.
Our hearts leap within us
reunited
at last
with those long forgotten
who'd drifted down the still waters
of our pasts.
Our spirits soar together,
unable to fully encompass
the Love
that surrounds us,
complete
and unending,
all turning towards the same God.

Water's Coming Out of the Sky

2009-07-11T16:28:00.001-04:00

The dog greets me
and trots outside.

Water's coming out of the sky.

She wags her tail
and doesn't know why.

She sees the water
coming out of the sky.

She turns around
and goes inside

because water's coming out of the sky.

At the Grotto

2009-07-01T15:49:00.003-04:00

Orange butterfly
alights on purple flower--
prays with Bernadette.

Looking Forward

2009-06-30T00:26:00.002-04:00

With my hand on the plow
I do not look back
but instead,
look forward
into the eyes
of Christ.

Time

2009-06-29T20:30:00.003-04:00

The silver tarnishes.
The polished stone
goes grey.

Possessions
gather dust
and color fades
from memories
carefully built
over years
and across generations.

In the distance,
beyond the mountain,
the rain sparkles
in the sun.

I look
for a way
across.

2009-06-29T11:58:00.003-04:00

A small child
reaches
for a rose.

Thornless,
red blends
with yellow.

Her exuberance
does not
kill its beauty.

I wrap it carefully,
the paper molding like clay
into a suitable container,
and, protected,

it grows.

The Poetry of Beauty

2009-06-11T21:30:00.004-04:00

All around us is
the poetry
of beauty.

The age-old impassioned yearning
of humanity
for the timeless, unsurpassed achievement
of created exquisiteness,

in sound
or in art,

in poetry
or in form,

unfolds for us
that which is beyond ourselves.

As we hunger for this beauty--
this order--
spending hours with the paint brush
or the pen,

with the clay
or the computer,

we toss aside our weak attempts
and start again.

We search each stranger's face
for the perfect beauty
that we know exists

for even our imperfect minds
have conceived it.

Beauty will save the world.
~Theodore Dostoyevsky

Catching Up

2009-06-10T17:41:00.003-04:00

I am running and running.
It is catching me,
the molasses monster--
making my brain
sticky and slow
and dis-functional.

What will happen to me?

Will I escape
at the last moment?

Will I find myself
able to breathe
underwater?

Is there anyone left
who knows

cpr?

To-do List

2009-06-10T17:32:00.004-04:00

The words are gone,
faded away
in the impossibly hot glare
of the noonday sun.

All that is left
is the in and out
of daily breathing

that is the last thing

on my to-do list.

Present Continuous

2009-06-10T17:30:00.003-04:00

mourning
grieving
bleeding
leaving

changing
growing
running

knowing

2009-06-02T11:16:00.003-04:00

I move through the day
as through molasses--
sweet, sticky,
and slow.

I am a snail
in the summer
a listless sloth
among strong, sinewy saplings.

I live in a dream world
of subconsciousness.

Naked in public,
I walk uncertainly
into a strange classroom.

I have not studied
for the test.

I find myself
suddenly
in the middle of a road,
the blacktop
hot under my chest.

I pull myself along
at an agonizingly slow pace.

I am unable to crawl away
from the moving train.

2009-06-01T07:42:00.001-04:00

The Great Impressionist
takes His brush in hand
and thickly lays on the paint
in neutral greys
and soothing whites,
in tender greens
and ruddy browns,
giving us peaceful respite
in the noonday sun .

Finding Your Angel

2009-05-29T12:32:00.002-04:00

Find your angel--
your being of light,
created by God
for infinite praise
of His immeasurable Love.

Draw strength
from God's messenger
poised in flight,
ever vigilant,
ready to rescue
on a wing
and a prayer.

Find your angel.

Naked Light

2009-05-08T12:28:00.002-04:00

My eyes squint in protest
against the naked light--
red hot--
too bright

against the others--

politely soft

and unfocused

Gettysburg in Time

2009-05-02T15:32:00.001-04:00

As we quickly travel
through a tunnel of time,
scrambling backwards
up the slippery slide,
hunting for history,
we chase the elusive
spirits of the Civil War
as the blinding light
of our own century
bleaches out
the ghosts of the past.

The Crowning of Mary and of Us

2009-04-30T15:54:00.006-04:00

May is the time
of May Crownings
and First Communions,
of blossoms
and of light,
bringing forth the delicious awareness
of the exceptional distinction
of being young,
and female,
and Catholic.

Lace and tulle bedecked,
with veils and crowns,
we share our unique significance
with the Mother of God!

With her we come forward
to receive Our Lord--
our innocent "yes"
facilitating the union--

God alive
in us.

The feelings fade
over time
but come back
in waves

like labor,

giving birth
to a long forgotten longing

and in dreams
that visit
when day time defenses
are asleep,

and call us back
to live

our ancient, created value.

2009-04-21T16:07:00.000-04:00

The waves
of olive green
lap weakly
on the muddy shore
and never succeed
in covering up
the dead fish.