The harvest comes though not today
the wait is timeless, long delay
but come it will and that’s the thrill
of all the planting and the stay.
...
The word is spoken, silence locks.
Is death betoken as fear knocks
on door of heart that loved so deep
to God whose gift is now so steep
...
Come sing my heart a song of joy
there is in me a tiny boy
who cries and whales and thirsts for love
who longs to fly like tiny dove.
...
I like the wine, I eat the cheese
I try in every way to please
and that’s perhaps my greatest fault
that blocks my life, shuts down the vault
...
My heart is strangely warmed
and deep within my soul is formed
a new mysterious direction
for I am seized by great affection
...
In droves at every shrine
devotees bend the knee, the neck,
the spine, in hopeful hopelessness
in longing search for the divine.
...
Prayer is like an open hand
in which a blackbird lays her eggs
nests her brood until they fly
gives them hope to live, not die.
...
Narrow confines, open space
deepened longing
swollen heart in faith embrace
sweet belonging
...
Words have become my companion
befriended, avoided, embraced
always enigmatic and pregnant
strange and strangely familiar
...
Walk still as night through sadness
That plucks those feathers from your breast
Be quiet and turn aside from gladness
As door you push ajar for entry of unwelcome guest
...