I WOULD SAY SO MANY THINGS

I sit in this sacred room; there is now
another shadow in it, woven into
the things that go on inside of me.
I open my book and think of you.
A feeling comes over me like a warm blanket:

I am glad when our paths cross
on our way into the night,
when our eyes meet
in silent spaces.

(25 November 2006)

ON THE TRAIN

I say I would lock my heart
away, would try to make it
be still.
But if I did, the light
in the room of my mind would burn out.

Dreams may not seem so real
without you here. Maybe it’s not the way
I would have it turn out,
but there will always be waiting souls,
will always be a classroom
to fill, will always enough to put food
on the table. It’s hard to imagine life
before now.
It’s hard to imagine life without it, too—
impossible almost.

I say I would lock my heart
away, would try to make it
be still. But if I did, the light
in the room of my mind would burn out.

(23 November 2006)

TRYING MY BEST

Today is a lovely day for a drive, isn’t it?
But it is not a day
to follow road signs, not a day to follow
a map. It is a day to follow the fruits in the orchards,
to look at the health
of the power line poles, to wonder
about the lives of the people in the homes
we pass by. The hum of the car and wheels
on pavement create an unsyncopated rhythm.
Gradually the day
will turn to night. The earth
will become quiet as I listen in, as if
it hopes I will discover something
inside of it, as if it summons
everything around it
to nudge me along until something good comes
for everyone.

(19 November 2006)

…WITH BEST INTENTIONS

You will not see everyone else
when you close your eyes,
but I may close mine
and wonder what you’re doing.
There will not be a seat right away.

My father’s voice is as it
usually is, but I can’t see his eyes.

(17 November 2006)

INTO THE WIND

I sit down next to you
at the wooden table underneath
an old oak tree. Today we all learn
how to prepare a grave.
Before the digging starts, we sprinkle
dry dirt over the damp earth. It is a symbol
of some kind—

a dream discarded.

(13 November 2006)

FRONT PAGE

Memorials are built to “heal”
and “remember”. What’s going to happen
when our land becomes a sea
of memorials for every human tragedy
that has occurred? And there are more to come—

the flowers, the pictures.

(13 November 2006)

…AND THAT’S ENOUGH FOR TONIGHT

How is it
your heart finds life again,
emerges from the darkness
when there was
no devastation surrounding it?

I think about
how I would answer my own questions
if you were to ask them. We will have
to set out to find
a different sky. But I’m sure we will
find it in time.

Days with some people come
to an end before our time
together does.

(10 November 2006)

SUNSHINE: AUTUMN MORNING

Sometimes a prayer
leaves a person feeling weighted.

(2 November 2006)

IN THE MORNING

As the collared shirt
is being ironed, the
words “It’s very sad”
pass by.

(2 November 2006)

THE GIFT

It’s always such a lonely mood,
except when I’m with people.

The voices of sinners sinning
have been woven into this. And
I know the blame
is mine.

There will always be blessings for the counting,
even when there aren’t any.

Some messages are silent,
and they don’t fulfill
obligations. They don’t
change the world.

(2 November 2006)