Poetry: How do words become flesh?

How do you pray? Do you pray with hands folded? Do you air out your words on the line? Do you clip them down one by one, and then let them dance in the breeze until they smell fresher, lighter? Do you tell yourself stories of meaning and mystery? Do you let the metaphors danceContinue reading “Poetry: How do words become flesh?”

Black cloth

Red broth, steaming soup, vegetables just picked, now my lunch; I slurp life in. Phone rings Sister Laura on the line, “Sister Rita is dying. I’ll put the phone to her ear. Say what you’d like. She can’t talk, won’t respond. Say your good-bye.” A pause. My lungs expand, mind races, I search my heartContinue reading “Black cloth”

ash

this day in lines across earth penitents unite we shall     let’s somberly remember nothingness and say yes onward, into we shall     neighbors needing giving greatly fasting freely praying constantly we shall     know black filth smeared crosses barring repent, return Jesus beckons go        

hallow hope

Bored with the rosary beads and anxiety of agendas I gaze up from the corner chapel in my 9th floor imaginary tree house home. My blurred vision moves from the cross to the obnoxious glow of the golden arches and hallows the hope that once was fire warming my heart over the violent city. Yet,Continue reading “hallow hope”