Brooklyn 2015
Ages ago I left a small town lifesearching for something I lost wanderingin confining predictability.Big city answers filled my small town soul. Glutted with certainties
Ages ago I left a small town lifesearching for something I lost wanderingin confining predictability.Big city answers filled my small town soul. Glutted with certainties
The world spins and staggersWe grab the side hold the mastHoping this storm is not all we will ever beTime’s torrents toss us wavewardAs skies
You, pod of the poorthe famished, the saintly, the destitute—of those besieged and those diseasedof St. John in his itchy wrap of hide andfur, wild-haired
Did you give a nameto your longing?Did you set out knowing what you’d buywith your bindle full of gold?Was it the blinking women, the sweeter
I clamber up the brick wall.Fingers sink into the cracks of caulkuntil my hands reach leaded frames of glass.Stretching myself across the puzzle piecesof bright
And the angel said unto thee, Go thouinto your garden and plant Creeping Jenny, alyssum, Sweet Woodruff to crawl acrossthe earth, and herbs to bring
How had he known to callscarlet tanagers scarlet or indigo buntingsindigo? Yet the wordswere so fitting he saw when he sketchedthe bow he’d witnessed after
The only waywewill bethe same at the lastwill be to go homeand sleep. We must notmake the maquette.
Holy Spirit guide herthrough her wilderness.She is a travelermomentarily lost on thisjourney. Fill her soul withkindness. Let her knowlove’s security. Give herpeaceful dreams and quietrest.
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