mercy poems

These poems were all written during my month-long internship in Spiritual Direction at the Mercy Center in Burlingame, California in July 1998. For some reason the emotional process our training put us through erupted in me in poetic form. "My Dog Emmanuel" is my favorite.

Tender
I used to be less fragile
but I have more courage now than I used to
my soft spots are uncovered and tender
but I am wise enough now to keep them that way
7/6/98

Uncaught
It felt muggy
and my butt ached
but I readjusted
and willed to focus
not wanting to let a pearl fall to earth
uncaught
7/6/98

Real
By some spiral path
these many sojourners and strangers
find themselves together
and willing
to be real
7/6/98

No One Wants Me To Meditate
No one wants me to meditate
except for the woman at the microphone
still I unfocus my gaze
straighten my spine
and pretend my breath is the sole available
object of wonder in the universe
but no one wants me to stare into void
Zues hurls his thunderbolts into my legs
Ahura Mazda roils and burbles in my belly
Coyote is farting two chairs down
and considers this some great joke
Yaweh is no help, either
humming some unmelodic lulleby
my heart swoons
and I start at the vertigo
of almost falling into the void
7/7/98

Jesus Does Not Come to Me
Jesus does not come to me
on a cross anymore
but in the warm and fleshy arms
of a woman
whose heart has been torn
and mended
and stretched
large enough to hold me and my fear
No wonder I want to run away
to cry
to never let go
7/7/98

Dad Wipes His Eyes
The other day
I saw my strong father
for the first time ever
wipe a welling tear from his eyes
moved in the giving of a gift to me
but his single tear had greater value
and I grieve that I have waited
thirty-five years for such a holy and tender giving
7/7/98

My Dog Emmanuel
My heart is heavy these days
for my dog, incarnate god
is not leaping at my heels

there is no one here
who will lick my face
when I feel overwhelmed
or bark with demonic fury
when I feel threatened
I long to partake of this furry sacrament
to rub her belly, singing "sanctus"

Surely Jesus can bend his body
in such miraculous ways
to bite at the sin on his back
or to investigate and lick
the most unfathomable places

This is the god of my whole heart
nuzzling her way under the blankets
leaping, yelping, mad thunder-tail
eyes shiny with expectation
watching me return from the land of pods and swine
7/7/98

Jesus (for Marilyn)
I don't know who you are
but I still have to follow you
7/7/98

My God is an Unmade Bed (for Sandra)
My God is an unmade bed
that nobody notices
I want to be reminded
to pull back the covers
and peek at You
7/7/98