Poetry, Paradox & Perspective
In us and around us,
Above us and below us
And through us,
Moves such energy
As both pushes the clouds
And powers invention,
Both shoots trees toward the sky
And rockets imagination beyond it,
Both lights the moon
And glows behind our eyes:
A hallowed YES—
Yes to possibility,
Yes to flight,
Yes to the richest happiness
And the deepest knowing—
A literal, life-wielding magic
That resonates within
And around
And through
All things.
Hello, Love.
(Do you mind, God,
If I call you that?)
So much seems upside down
So often
That I’ve lost track
Of all the ways
Your holy disruption
Has upended my life.
Thank you.
I like the new views
And the softened edges
Of things.
Today,
When I felt
What to call you
After years
Of bitter grudges
Against the titles
I’d been told to use—
Pseudonyms that
Othered and distanced you,
No matter how
Fondly parental or grand—
I held the peace
To my chest
Like a love letter
Pencilled in handwriting
Divine and dear.
Endearments seal
A relationship’s bond—
Whispered and laughed,
Reserved for the ones
We let in closest,
Who witness
Our ugliest sides
And still want us.
This name, Love,
Is a miracle
So commonplace
We toss it out our lips
Like an exhale
Or hold our breath
Until the perfect moment
To confess it.
It’s a name used for lovers
As well as children,
For friends
As well as strangers.
“Hello, Love,”
We say,
Opening our hearts
As it vocalizes
Connectedness.
Love, you are not other
Or distant.
Love, we are bound.
Love, you are in me
And in everything—
Turning my head,
Turning the world,
Helping us soften and see.
Quiet yourself
Down to your core
For even a moment
And you’ll feel how
Everything is holy.
No need to seek divinity
In only designated spaces;
There is God in every flower,
In every breath.
Drop into stillness
And know.
Beads of light
Drape from my neck
Like a rosary or mala,
Counting prayers or mantras or hopes
As I inhale,
Exhale,
Breathing divinity in whatever form
It’s offered—
Morning sun,
A warm room,
Quiet hours,
Green plants,
Meditative time.
I want to remember these beads
When I can’t see them;
I want to remember to count the ways
Divinity manifests in every moment.
If, as George Bernard Shaw
wrote, “all great truths
begin as blasphemies,”
then shall I un-name my god
quietly or with the loudest hallelujah?
I never knew You needed un-naming
until I began to see that
no true god could be contained
in any label, no matter
how extravagant or tender.
Father, Mother, Almighty Creator,
even The Great I Am
are all insufficient.
I will have to keep un-naming You
all of my days.
Through the car window
as we passed
I caught the white-walled mission
in the bright sun against
the bluest sky.
Religion is so many things,
some of them ugly and dark,
but spirituality at its purest
and most vibrant
offers hope of peace.
Sometimes all we need
is a promising glimpse
of light.
The car “radio” wraps me in poems
Dressed in music and beamed
Through satellites and lightning cables.
They wear nametags of “indie” or “pop”
But whisper messages to me
Only God would know to say.
Mother and Father visit in strange guises;
Angels customize playlists so we hear
Our Parents straight through our ears.
I believe in heaven and earth,
Spirit and body:
Physical, mortal, vulnerable housing
Of immortal souls.
Our minds swim in the sky
Amidst swirling ideas
And bright lights,
Contemplating far-flung stars.
Our hearts are here,
Grounded in all that we love
Of leaf and flower
And frail human hopes.
God the Father, God the Mother,
I am cradled between You
In this dazzling space,
Trying to know you both.
Awake & Amused 