A selection from In the Hands of the Immortal Weaver: Poems of Sacredness and Belonging
Give me a shawl
of homespun gauzy cotton.
For I’ve had enough
of walking bare-faced
and bold-headed
among all that is greater than I.
Without announcement
the Divine brushes past us
within the crowd.
All the while we are
deafened by the buzz
of the unimportant.
Part the shadow
that I might enter
and watch the workings of the day
from the side of the unseen.
Student of the Beloved
The questions have surmounted all certainties.
Too many days are frittered away feigning wisdom,
all the while knowing that, if I am to cover
that distance between myself and that Other Shore
I must relinquish the illusion of mastery
and embrace the station of eternal student.
We shall not find the answers
until we can admit that we do not have them.
