WITNESS

monday morning

the cherry striped chaises sit empty

umbrellas wrapped

 

all is hushed

just you and i

face to face

 

you roar in and over

and out

again and again

no time to lose

 

you roar in

over an out

cleansing the shore of the weekend’s racket,

preparing for the new

 

just you and i for some moments

shoulder to shoulder

in the champagne air

 

and, what i can do?

what i can do - the only thing

is to offer my silence, my truest perception

prayer like

in awe

of your

ministry

 

WHO IS HOLY

it’s not that kind of place…

among the summer flowers

dressing the lakeshore

in morning,

in august

 

out of respect,

leave it before you enter:

the agenda

the volume

the commotion

 

shed all of it, and

hear things

see things

untangle

 

land quietly as you approach

please?

land quietly - as one would in a holy place

for several somebodies are already present

 

“wisdom has built her house.”

and it goes like this…

like the water’s ripple

just like this

 

excerpted from Proverbs 9: 1-7

 

 

MORNING PRAYER

 

my early version
the one i like best
with an impulse towards prayer

make me an instrument
for all
or, perhaps just these two or three
who share with me a life under this roof?

violins were strung for symphonies
and kites for soaring 
so, what of my purpose?

deliver me from my hissing
just that, today

blunt my tallying
of disappointments and woe
just that, today

make me an instrument,
of quiet gesture
surely i could be put to some use for elevation?

today, just that
today… could be different