Red Sky Riot: for Angela

She tried to capture the sky
A royal riot of red and blue.

It was not hers to capture
The colors slipped too quickly
Into a subtlety of gray.

She tried to tether a song
With a thousand parts of harmony.

It was not hers to bind
The sound burst and rose
And she could only rise with it.

Heart unbound.
Soul set free.

Amen v'amein.

The Stumbling Gait of Want

I do not sit
with comfort
in my own skin.
I do not rest
or breathe with ease,
without thinking
If or
When or
How I might
take the next one.
I prefer to fight,
except when I prefer
to flee.
And there is
familiarity in the
absolute stasis
of white-knuckled
holding on.

But the soul You
have given me
is pure.
It is whole
and it rests within
this body that
does not know
comfort or
rest.

What if I deny
it, that Gift
of grace and
completion -
my soul, that
You guard
and guide and
take and return?
What if I let it hunger?
What if I take no pleasure in touch,
and do not anoint my body
with oils and scent,
and leave my face bare
and my feet unshod,
so that i can feel the
bones of the earth
and the sharp chill of the air?

Will my soul rise then?
Will my breath rise with it,
and my spirit with my breath?
Will hunger and thirst
and the unease of my
body lift me -
and my soul,
naked now,
and pure
and whole
and lifted
and lifting -
will it all be enough?

Into the silence of my want.
and the stumbling gait
of my fear,
let there be that
instant, like a spark
of light
and hope
and give,
that my soul,
that is pure,
and my body
that is weary
of discomfort
and flight,
let me rise and
stand before your
Gate, ready
to Return.
Ready to
begin.
Ready.

3am Prayer

The house breathes
its quiet sounds
an electric psalm -
wordless, and
insistent, and
my soul travels
along its
singing edge.
I can feel its tug
in the quiet hum
in the quiet dark
in the quiet breath
that is a prayer.

A Hosanna of Cold

Winter crisp,
sharp-edged glitter-
Oh!
That leaf-strewn path,
once edged in gold and
a suddenness of blue
now lies
sheathed
in silver and white and grey,
Startled by shadows.
I could not see where earth began and horizon ended,
but bare branches held up the sky,
unbowed,
and evergreen altars
laden with snow and the
remembrance of spring
Unbound.
God's voice danced through ice and air
that stung my eyes
and burned my lungs,
and I sang
There on the edge of winter,
As the sky
     the earth
          the horizon
Pearled
with the rising of morning,
I sang an exaltation of
Light,
A hosanna of
Cold,
my soul returned.