Holy in the Infinite


June 2016

Water from Stone

Water from Stone (28 June 2016)

I can’t write the words
My hand doesn’t know

I can’t draw water from the stone
I can feel my skin burning
And the rain in my bones
But there is no relief

Did I hold too much?
Did I splinter under the weight?
The fissures running so deep
I could no longer remain whole

What are the words
for not knowing myself any longer
for turning away from my shadow
to not recognize myself in the mirror

The ache in my hip, familiar now,
walking with me to the water
waiting for me to remember my name,
my words, my path home

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #153

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #153 (28 June 2016)

The time to be brave
is finally upon me,
but I sleep with fear

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #152

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #152 (27 June 2016)

Moth against the pane
Beg again to be let in
Hapless thudding tap

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #151

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #151 (26 June 2016)

don’t set the alarm
we need another hour
in case the world ends

Map of My Father

Map of My Father (19 June 2016)

My father is like birch trees
Pale, tall and straight. Quiet.
Skin like paper.

I listen to him moving now
And I can hear
The cracking rattle

The sound of maps,
teaching me the fold,
at the kitchen table.

The creases on his face now
The same drifting lines
As those blue ink roads.

The boundary is drawn
Between the living and the dead before
the thin walls of heaven and earth.

Soon I will become him.
With the same pale hair
and trembling hands.

Navigating this twisted passage,
birds crying in birch trees, and I’m crying,
Let me back to my innocence.

The heavy lines under my own eyes
The folded paper in my hands
I am the map of my father.


Range (16 June 2016)

The palm of your hand,
the rough of your fingers,
tracing the map
the range of mountains
running east to west

Your hand, so gentle
on my own topography.
My valleys
The trails of shadows
The hills
The caverns

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #150

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #150 (17 June 2016)

Don’t mistake my voice,
my cry to the infinite.
It’s only for you.

The Envy of Angels

Gently break
all my bones.
A clean snap.
One after the other.

As if to say,
Take a new form.
Grow wings.
bones that bend
Light, feathered.
And lift me,
back into the wind.

Wings spread,
Spirit shaking,
Stealing heaven.
Fighting the line
between seeing
and knowing.
Turning my palms up,
whispering to my heart,
Show me the holes
in my hands.
Do not disbelieve.
Do not deny
this body,
this form,
any longer.

Aloud and hushed
In the same instant

Changing my rhythm
to the beat of the wing.

Flutter of heart
Flutter of wings

I can’t breathe anymore,
but I can dream the air.

This afternoon
This deep forest
I can breathe again here,
Blanketed, comforted
Alone, alive in this wilderness.

What does it mean to love
as the days grow longer,
stretching towards the infinite?
But my own, ever shorter.
As the seasons laugh
at my glad heart,
at my hope at the wild blackberries
brushed to the roadside.

What is the willingness to be wild?
The invitation to innocence?
The envy of angels,
feet sinking into the earth.
This spreading of wings.

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #149

Haiku for the Lonely-Hearted #149 (16 June 2016)

Quiet fortitude
Her hand rests on my shoulder
Voice, courage, bold heart.

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