Hold fast to freedom
Lest she swim across the sea
Hope bobbing on waves
When you look through my window, what do you see?
Does your own reflection distort,
distract from my own?
Or do those dark eyes
perceive my frantic efforts to achieve meaning,
see through the fragile skin
to bones as stark as grave?
Can you see past the crumbs,
past the messiness of life in the living,
to the heart beating love
and sons and daughters,
meetings and givings,
turmoil and rest?
And I wonder –
Have you mastered
the mystery of your own survival,
do you know where
when the discomfort of the stretch
Can you tell tales
to keep nightmares away
during unending Arabian nights?
Do you wonder
the way I wonder
this glass between us
distorts how I see you,
how you perceive me.
there is only
this film of silica
knowing the other.
If this glass were cut,
would we bleed
It’s more than pride that puffs her up.
Layers build buffers
between soul and the cold;
in the places where
denial runs up against reality,
is decidedly counter-intuitive.
may make good neighbours,
but they block the very life-giving rays
that her soul most seeks.
It will take all of her courage
to face the cold without feathers,
but only in nakedness can
sun make love to skin;
intimate connectivity with the Light
will dress her more beautifully
than her puffed up profile
All this work seeking specks on snow is chicken scratch,
for here I am,
grasping for crumbs under the table,
coveting the hem of Your garment
when I am an invited guest at Your banquet table.
I’m sewing a new patch on an old wine-skin;
rather than the patch,
I will put on my new robe,
garment of praise
more fitting for a Daughter of the King.
So dressed, I will rise up,
approach Your throne room with confidence,
and claim my prize –
of You –
glory following glory.
This seeking specks
Arthur, I’ve had it, you good-for-naught brute!
You sit there and listen – I’ve something to say!
The kids are eating us out of home and nest,
Their incessant chatter drives me insane !
I know times are lean with the factory closed –
But this cheap housing complex you chose is the pits!
How’s a girl supposed to raise her young
When hooligan neighbours scare her out of her wits?
I’m run off my wings catching bugs for our brood
While you go off with the boys for your fun;
The roof has sprung leaks and the doorway’s a mess,
I tell you, I’ve had it! It’s over, I’m done!