A woman, placed in the kitchen

Oily black, the saucepan waits

Expectant and warm

At the sound of hot fat the window is opened

I let in the cool air of creation

Creating a gift I am eager to start

Chopping and peeling parsnips and large cups

Of spinach and carrots and sweet ground beef

The door opens, heart swells, he enters, I smell

We are ready to eat

And yet

Quiet echo

Growing greater

Sometimes shaking the depths of me

I, rejoicing

And yet still

My joy is not complete

I, laughing

And yet

There’s a sad sob hiding underneath

And yet

Someone out there refuses to let me go

My trust in You lives on until I cannot see the darkness

Everest

Everest

Dreams were made for living

Someday

I will rest

As the wheels in my head slow their turning

We’re here and in the stillness now

Waiting here together now

As the quiet echoes out

In my contented heart

I can’t imagine leaving here

Hearts are eased and beating here

Softer than they were

But if

you don’t want to be

In this quiet

here with me

Please go higher

If there was a way to never leave you nor to lose

If you were a prize that I could simply see and choose

If there were a way to guarantee my heart’s fair use

I would say no 

I would say no

For there is value in a person far above another’s joy

And the taking of your heart would be to utterly destroy

All the love, all the gift, that can unite a girl and boy

If I die

I won’t take you with me

You are not my own

So if you don’t want me

Please go higher

Please go higher

Respirate

I’m living this day over

Like recycled air

I’m turning this page over

Because I am bare

-ly breathing and I

don’t want to bleed anymore

Woman of a thousand faces

A moment, women.

A moment, while I speak

Each moment is a sacrament

of grace that peaks

And valleys

And troughs

And waves overhead

Woman

of a thousand faces

Pretend, if you will, that your true face is dead

Woman

in a million spaces

listen to me now, and lay down your head

Woman, you’ve a thousand faces

But you know that one is true

It’s the one that is lovely

Has a soul, brain, and body

It’s the one that is only and uniquely you

There’s a purpose that purposed the stars to align

It’s the purpose that made out your person’s design

And the trees to give fruit

Like the fruit in your womb

Be not afraid

rest your eyes

I am the way and the truth and the life

Follow my lead and let me drive

Sway to the rhythm of eventide

I lead you onwards by hand and by foot

and my power is made perfect

in ashes and soot

Woman, oh, woman

Lay on this breast

Let your face lose its worries

and wrinkles and mists

Hear my heart beat

Follow its rhythm

Follow my feet

3 am

Where do our hearts go

As the days drift deeper to dark

What is wisdom

When we feel too stuck to embark

On a journey which may lead us to glory

But could yet leave us lying depressed in the cold

Is this one “yet” the true source of our fears

Or is our distaste the result of our nearness

To fear

For what have we to fear, but fear itself

Tremor we do

Night terrors confront us, say

pain and sorrow are

the only results

of the only choices

we can choose

Life, truth, beauty

Mean nothing at 3 am

When we are frozen

To our ideals of what our lives must be

To what our God cannot do

To what has been promised

And what we are entitled to

What will melt us and allow us to step

Allow us to move and to live in light

Perhaps we must sleep through the night

All of your daughters

All of your daughters

Weep at your feet

Oh! See my hands!

They are gnarled and bleed

My legs,

they are molding and sloughing away

All of us kneel and we beg and we pray

These, my sisters, with faces drenched

Tears run through their soiled hands

Our raiment is threadbare, moth-eaten, burned

Remainders of whom we so earnestly spurned

You are radiant, crown-ed

Woman of light

Smoke and shade

To your left and your right

Our ranks are still swelling

Oh, much we have cost!

We are your daughters

We are the lost

Mother, mother!!

Lamentation decries

Oh please now, we beg of thee

Glance down your eyes

Look thou upon us, with merciful gaze

We come to you broken, we come in disgrace

Mother, oh mother! Our hearts are near dead!

With our last breath we cry out to your head

It is crowned with twelve stars

The moon’s under your feet

I place my head there, please, be my defeat

Stand on my murdering, nametaking heart

We need a new ending. We need a new start.

Gestation

Germinating

Incubating, separating, replicating cell

Zygote larger on the inside

Than it seems

Perfect, pure, immaculate

Carried in a tabernacle

Spotless as the snow

Imperceptibly, yet so rapidly

Seed containing fullness

Ripening o’er nine months

Waiting, while you’re germinating

We are longing for your coming

Child Emmanuel

With us in the darkness

Of Mary’s verdant womb

Unseen, unheard, but present

Heaven in this room