POEM: Two Friends Discuss Mornings and Bed Sheets

“I just wanted to snuggle with him - just snuggle.
In the cool air, with just the sheets to cover us.
I thought of it as a date, but he didn’t –
He had other ideas and went running instead.”

“Yes, there is something about the gray velvet of morning air,
The sadness of light – while the doves are still cooing –
Surrounded by all the crazy chatter of songbirds
When our skin is cool to the touch
And yes, with just the sheets
And our own bodies to keep us warm -
I wake sometimes just to watch her sleep.
I want to scream:
‘Wake up, you are missing it. Wake up!’
But of course I don’t.”

“Then I think ‘how unromantic of him’ –
But I remember how he brought
Me chicken masala from my favorite
Indian restaurant for breakfast
And realize how romantic that is.”

“It is.
And maybe we can still teach them about sheets.
And the mornings and the all the possibilities
That reside in dim light and the touch of human skin.”

POEM: Church

I love morning’s dirty light, how it tickles
Music from the throats of morning birds.

First, it’s dark out and there are no sounds at all.
But then – at the first spill of milky light

Over the thin-lipped horizon, birds begin a choral call
And response. It is music as stained glass,

Sanctifying sound by clarifying silence,
Straining sunlight into its many colors.

Even surrounded as we always are by the naysayers
And those who will never honor a single grateful day,

Here is where my God lives.
It is my church and my communion received.