fifty-four today. a sunday.

how many children does it take
to make you notice, america?
how many of our children?

do they have to dance
and prance about in pageants?
must they be killed
by their own mothers
before you take notice?
must they return unborn
before you value them?

how many children does it take?
how many of our children
is it worth to achieve "sustainable peace"?

will anyone be left to sustain it?

(I know you have sent your own
for reasons I still cannot understand
and I grieve your loss as much.
they were grown men of twenty years or more.
at least you saw the pleasure of their play
before you lost them.)

will five of our four year olds
suffice for one of yours?

how many children does it take, america?
how many of our children
before you say enough.

enough.

and leave us time to hold those
still breathing.

--




with prayers to the One who called peacemakers "blessed"
and blessed the little ones of Judea, Samaria and Nazareth.

apprentice

i must learn
of my beloved
how he loved
his only son

free to be
and be beloved
let me hold you
as his arms

i am nowhere
near as present
i am broken
he is whole

but beloved
let me love you
he will free me
-teach me
-love me

to become

center

hold still, my child, hold still
there is shelter in my arms
hold still

the water is not calm, you struggle
ripples growing into waves, you flail
overwhelming, overwhelming you

hold still, my child, hold still
there is safety in my arms
hold still

i am truth, not the waves
i am ever after, not the countless
frantic moments of your flailing

hold still, dear child, hold still
the water will not overcome my arms
the water still obeys me
hold still

listen closer, past the crashing water
to the silent steady heart that loves you best
i am here, we are steady

i will hold you still

help

it's not all up to me,
thank God

I am clay
and you are fragile

hopefully

he has
ground away my edges
so I might be useful

delight

there is a joy
in you
that is the newness
of all things

we are too old
to even faintly remember

you let me enjoy
the wonder
through your wide, wide eyes

duties

there is a stubborn
in you,
son of adam,
same as the stubborn
in me

and so
I must find
the fine line between
your will and your spirit

so I do not fracture
the one
as I (must) temper
the other

able

every morning
like a ritual
you raise your hands
and they surprise you
I watch you
regard them with wonder
you turn
each hand
and turn
each again

fist and open palm

your fingers
long for your age
are beautiful

are you amazed
at what they can do?

you will be