Poetry Thursday: Searches

I'm still thinking about what you said in the previous post--and I'm so grateful for all of you. Thank you--those words don't seem to be expansive enough for what I want to express.

My mind travels to gratitude today, and hope, and dealing with loss. I'm thinking about James Kim, the father who lost his life in a brave attempt to find rescue for his stranded family. I don't know them, but their circumstances feel so utterly mundane, so familiar--a family, driving, gets lost. How could the predictability of workaday life take such a tragic turn, spinning their world off of its axis? The answer is that it ALWAYS can. I lose sight of this very, very often, and fail to stop and glory in the comfort of things exactly as they are. James Kim was working from a very primal place--needing to help the people he loved most in the world. How extraordinary is the "ordinary" love I spend most of my time taking for granted. I hope the Kim family finds comfort in James Kim's enduring love for them, and I hope grace suffuses them at every turn.

So. Take a deep breath. You are loved. You are alive. Change is possible.

Poetry eludes me lately, and this latest "poem" is no exception. But I missed Poetry Thursday. Maybe if I keep trying to show up on faith, faith will meet me halfway.

Small and small
Can I fit myself into her eyes
And rest there
Complete as I am?

Wield words clumsy
Jigsaw makeshift armor
Knowing that one small finger
Can poke through the holes.

Her hand locks onto mine
We hold the china bowl tense
Outstretched
Teetering
But would it be so terrible
If water splashed
Overflowed beyond?

I hold her
As together
We grope in the dark
For the desire lines of angels
And the fires that warm
Lit by unexpected sources.

_________
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