a poem for PMcC
[Matthew 1: 19 – 25]
While I tried not to see
to
stare
at her stillness
the stone bench
and she became one
A voice
she had said
and a burning flow
through her limbs
and I tried
not to see but to
see
what
and how and why and
now
I have a voice
now I am
burning with seeing
just
how
much she needs my voice
Yes she told
me was pulled
from her throat
and Yes
snatched me from my
bed
Care was all I
heard
See where you must carry
it all
Yes
whose voice
do we both hear
12.15.2016
Here's to Care and carry, perfect cultural powers that Be not conceal and have nothing to do with cash. This is Christmas before and after all. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteI love this: care to carry my pain, voice to wrody my suffering.
ReplyDeleteWow! This is a moving piece, thank you.
ReplyDeleteCare and carry...our Native Peoples have modeled this for us these last months with their stand against the Dakota Access Pipe Line.. they succeeded in moving us to take a stand for justice. May we allow the Prince of Peace to "yes" us, into doing the same. Thank you for the liturgy in your poetry.
ReplyDelete