desire

i want to ask you

when you were first aware

of being desired. when

someone wanted to know

only your body,

and the pleasure

it might afford.

how did you respond

to the weight

of that gaze,

the furtive glances?

did you return that attention?

did you confront it

unblinkingly?

did you avert your eyes?

was there shame? whose?

i want to ask you

when you were first aware

of desiring another. when

you wanted to offer them

all of your body

and the pleasure

it might afford.

did they respond

to the heat

of your entreaties,

your intended surrender?

did they return your touch?

did they act with boldness,

and possess the land?

did they avoid the altar?

was there joy? whose?

i remember what it was like

to be desired, and how desire begets desire,

awakens the soul one way or another.

i know there is a desire fuelled by control,

and desire stirred by beauty. i wish

i could say i was always on the right side

of the question. i regret to say i was not.

lanterns

we are making bags for the dead.

we light the candles

and set the lanterns free on the current.

the line makes its way

out into the bay and turns

the corner into open ocean,

the water calm,

the sky calm, the heart steady.

this is a way to remember

the way home.

sitting on a boat

drinking wine with strangers,

taking in this moment

as the light fades.

back on dry land

there are different rhythms,

the waves of loss and

something close to joy,

the way a smile slowly emerges

even as sadness fills the body,

the way every light

reminds you of the ones you love

and the ones left behind.

flowers

gather every flower

everywhere you walk

fill your hands with flowers

bring them here and

gather them together

make them a mountain

make them an offering

make them a mountain of offerings

fool

And when the hour came, he reclined at table, and the apostles with him. And he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves. For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” Luke 22: 14-20

what do you do when you observe Lent

on April Fool’s day? today the scripture reading

is from Luke 22 - the last supper.

i want to write that as a question: the last supper?

because it isn’t “the last supper.” evidently,

there is a wedding being planned,

though i admit my expectations are low.

I’ll just keep practicing the rituals,

the body and the blood, the bread and the wine,

my community gathers near and far,

we share these words for courage, for hope;

as declaration of our foolishness.

the movements of this body and that body.

we just keep celebrating, observing.

(some more than others)

this is a preparation, the discipline

of waiting. i suppose

some think me a fool,

and i suppose i am foolish.

so let me be king for a day. it is only a story.

tell me someone has died; then that they live.

share with me stories full of heartbreak and joy,

that turn things upside-down.

                                             let me be your fool.

a poem for derek walcott

 

'Heart, you are in my heart as the bird rises,

heart, you are in my heart while the sun sleeps,

heart, you lie still in me as the dew is,

you weep within me, as the rain weeps.'

-- Adam’s Song, Derek Walcott

i still can’t read that without tears.

all my heroes are dying.

i know someone else said that.

it’s still true. they’re dying.

it is not a metaphor,

but cold, hard fact.

like a body

and its longing.

God weeps as i weep.

us both saddened

by his passing.

will we ever see his like again?

i know someone else said that.

it’s an honest question.

*

i will miss your strength,

the way your words were centered

in experience, edging the epic,

fishing for meaning.

i will miss the sails reflecting

the light, measuring the horizon.

catching the wave, always moving.

the way you set the hook.