Nearby confusion harangued a soul,
Perhaps for 30 years, oscillating
And then, like a pleasant infection
Permeated from the walls to another place.
The repair complete,
I found myself comprised of thoughts of others
And even love within,
So confused I could not tell where I started
The house in the woods had become the woods
And the woods disguised the house
So were complete …
As the artist intended
Now the air and the water
Which nourishes life
For me and the plants
Have connected all in a silent, harmonic sound
A windchime of love, broadcasting its mystery.xxx
Today the good air quality
Let’s us see each other
Feel each other
And though speech is unnecessary
We glimpse the oneness in small locutions
The housecoat protects
The work of the mammy
Affirming an annunciation
To serve others
And God through them
I dislike housecoats
Not for their purpose
Which alone is fair
But for their disposition
As servants are of God alone
All else being of man
Is the end of the line an abrupt stop;
Or a screeching, H1 pencil.
When the pain comes in from those who dislike you,
Or what you have done,
Or seems you had done;
The fork in the road rushes up.
To vilify and engage in debate,
Shredding their argument,
And then their clothes;
Until they are left naked, and your work is done.
Or listen and pray,
Perhaps then, we might hear what is behind the words,
The critiques, the noise,
And learn what is in their heart.
Which may tell us what is in ours.
Into the darkness,
As the evening draws near,
Smothering the day with her extinguished light,
Calling us to rest.
Or reflect on the day past,
And a sleepless night ahead.