events unfolding
at a pace building
each detail falling
into tentative place
until there is still
more, and more change
this person's place
the tears grace
cheeks of fear
or else those
facing final fates
dates, dates, dates
calendar ticks with weight
numbers tallying can't count
the masses of family fought
the myriad of love, ripping
seams tripping
bodies...
oh bodies
our inability
and frailty
weakly
all days crawl
along, along
along so very long
timeline unfolds
and timelines fill
the joking, the distracting,
the angry, the bills,
the election, the census,
the world, the locale,
changes. changes now.
I miss you.
it's really that simple.
I miss you.
I look ahead at the day
we gather again
but wonder, with solemn
unknowing, who may not be
present with us?
who may not survive
such a time
and what, if anything
could I possibly do?
could I possibly do?
to change any outcome
to impart hope
when there is none
deep in my bones
may it rise up, singing
despite me
despite my inability
any weakness
make manifest
HIS GLORIOUSNESS
ooooo sweet Jesus
we anticipate You.
hanging with heaviness of all that is
all that is becoming and, yes, changing
relentless and restless n e w s
feeding us
newsfeeding on troughs of friends
who (all of us) can't handle this
we, in our smallness
now ever exposed
are unable entirely
and shown
this cannot be home
hostile to holiness
and raging in the grief
of what is always inevitable
but now, evermore, timely
death.
is not new
but seems soon
sooner than "should"
sooner than our timeline
our plans, our hopes, dreams.
we didn't get much of a chance
but
chance after chance after chance
what
will
I
do
today?
what
will
I
do
these
next
fifteen
minutes?
when I finally stop
awaiting this storm's passing days
but blissfully, foolishly, DANCE
IN THE RAIN?
"HOW DARE SHE
DISCREDIT THE BURDEN
HANGING SO HEAVY
IN THIS AIR?
HOW DARE ANY
PERSON NOT LET
DEATH TRULY SCARE?
HOW CAN YOU SAY
ANYTHING OF GRACE
WHEN MORE DIE
DAY BY DAY?
WHEN RACIST HATE
TURNS ITS UNWELCOME PAGE
AGAIN, AGAIN,
SEE OUR SOCIETIES' WOUNDINGS
AND WHO ARE YOU?
SHE. SHE..."
who am I?
anyway. really.
and why this still small voice rings in me
restfully, sweet singing
"nothing, no nothing
nothing to do but believe"
even when I seem make-believe
childish
foolish
downright dumb
ignorant
complacent
beating empty drums I...
...I arise
light
to try
to shine
to say yes
again
somehow
to dying, myself
(if even true death may come)
and to, yes, dance with the gravity
not make mice of mammoths
but still, somehow
lightness in the plummet
joy...
play.
(after the poem concluded,
I'm sad to say
this line also floated in,
so I'll let it have its space:)
easy for me to say.