Poetry

Cicada Snore

It gathers beneath somewhere and drones
with throbbing vibration that seems so single
humming underneath our awareness each evening –
the faintest of sound crescendos to loud

They begin their chant and we sense it simply as
familiar back-chatter without meaning or nuance;
yet they sing in multitudinous voice and volume
as we casually sift through our meddling minds

Would that you count off your number and place;
how unknown you remain from our silly cognition –
in stillness you speak with symphonic subtleties
all those detailed levels of boring engagement

I’d like to lie on that sound as if it were my bed
wafting and rising in pretended tone-deafness…
If I’m not careful I’ll tumble headlong into dullness,
what such rest could give is benign of sense.…

Reflections

RACISM’S DAUGHTER

It seems that the scripture readings for the Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time have clear ties to what is happening in our country and in our world today.  We have mention of “foreigners” in the Prophet Isaiah’s reading (Is 56:1, 6-7), “race” in Paul’s letter to the Romans (Rom 11:13-15, 29-32), and mention of “lost sheep, dogs, and demons” in Matthew’s Gospel (Mt 15:21-28). …

Poetry

A Rumi Dawn

I wonder what color the soul is…
I wonder what is the sex of the soul…
I wonder what the soul cannot forgive…
I wonder what it is that the soul wants most…
I wonder what abuse the soul has taken and given…
I wonder if the soul has ever spoken or been heard…
I wonder if there is anything that the soul cannot receive…
I wonder if there is something that the soul cannot take delight in…

I wonder if the soul is waking up…

 

tpt 8/2/2017…