Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Preparing for Canonization

If someday, long after my death,
the church were to declare me a saint,
I want to be known as
Our Lady of Perpetual Astonishment.
Even now, I practice.
Lying in bed, I listen to the maple tree argue
        the wind, struggle to stay awake, don’t want
        to miss any of it.
When I gather stones on the beach, I hear them
       sing in the palm of my hand
I lick the salty tears from your face,
       savor your sorrow.
A walk in the woods; light swims through the firs,
       flips the shadows, shakes my bones.
Like Moses, I approach
the thick darkness where God is,
groping, breathless, ready.