Delight, Delight!

Delight, Delight!
I found him once
Crept up on bird shadow
in the wing of the old bookshop

We all grow old
Delight, Delight
can we see in the planes
the blue blue sky
the baseball game
bases loaded and he lands in the field

do you know what you are fighting for
what is worth dying for
what is worth living for
does it take your breath away
and do you feel delight delight?

Delight, Delight!
I met him once
in the ruins
once twice
weapons laid down
I could trust him with them

the truth of the truth

the truth of the truth

when offered freely

the open hand holds more

than a closed continent

before you I could not see the sky

when I looked up

I saw empty

it

it was not enough

to leave

but to want more

there is nothing like the love of God

tho I peer through a pane

it is truth’s pane

and tho I cannot touch your hands

tho I cannot see you

I will love you forever

I can see fingerprint on glass

I can feel you lifting me when I fall down every day

\you are the daily moon\

art

broken heart

blue stretched canvas

holding in more

than it will ever let show through

in grams, pain feels like bread

outside the oven

unbaked

getting heavier

white wet acrylic

fall into the fog- chunks of blue, ovals of open mouthed navies

until they are immersed

in blue

saved the place like a bookmark 

fierce

arrow head

dug up

recovered

re wound

like a bird I am wounded by the sky I will never pass through

the cathedral bells I will never hear ring

the country I will never visit

in my lifetime

like this black paint on my jacket

I decide

to stay

cubism

was first nothing more than realism

in someone’s mind

was nothing more than relationship

between border and brother and boredom

matters of the hear]t

I try to keep things simple

with you

I try to use as few words as possible

because I start to ramble

I know I know myself

it does not stop flowing

until the sky is red

and there’s anger in my eyes

long distance

it is as if I live in a small country

pinned at the corners, across the earth’s crust

shutting its eyes in the early evening

sheets and quilts keeping the ice flows in place

as if going up north for the weekend to visit you

is nothing more than a drive to the corner store

to grab a few groceries

in my own island for days on end

I dream of the distance

of rushing through it

to see your face

I Could be a Woman From Any Place

one foot then the other steps out onto the riverbed floor

it is early and the fishermen are packing their bread and fruit lunches for the coming day

dawn’s light warms the cold night air as another morning approaches:

I have come to greet the day

to herald the blessings that might come today

feluccas on the horizon

I am here to say Yes.

I could be a woman from any place

letting my hair down after the 9 to 5

spending one precious hour with the book I’ve been putting off

with the ending I need to have

before turning out the lights in a familiar bed

I could be a grandmother baking bread

welcoming in my young granddaughters for Earl grey tea after picking apples in the garden

listening to their stories about school as we visit by the fireplace

setting the table for dinner as the bread comes out of the oven

I could be a woman from any place

I could be a mother baking sugar cookies with my daughters as it snows outside

as the frost clings to the front window

dancing to Greek music, rock music, classical music

as we wait for spring to come

I could be a woman from any place

selling fabrics in the Cairo street market;

visiting with the elderly in a Calgary nursing home;

drinking tea in a shop off of Kensington, catching up with friends;

a student working for her education;

a woman misunderstood by her colleagues while she waits for her dreams to begin;

a young pianist spending hours every day practicing;

a scientist who makes a discovery;

a politician who is not always popular, but right;

a pastor who spends her weekends arranging shelter for the homeless;

a sister, a mother, a cousin, a friend.

strength through our trials

commitment through our trials – to Love others as we would like to be loved,

to give of ourselves for the education, knowledge, or health of others

I could be a woman from any place

but I am from this country, my country,

I will use my hands to lift up those who need shelter

I will use my history, and the history of the women before me,

to restore people to their former light.

at central

some days I need bread

but I need love to breathe

to fix the nostrils for life

to leave for Australia

I do not need flight

I need the ground I need love

the Kingdom of God is backwards and forwards

(pulled on a thin thread from my birth to my distant shore leaves me between places)

(until I reach my distant shore)

there is beauty in need

hands wrung for water for rain

detect a hole

prove the supply