THE WOMEN gather under the trees.
They bring gifts, food, and chairs.
They are gypsies and queens, oracles, saints,
Jezebels and jesters, healers, sages, and warriors.
And when the circle is complete, the magic begins.
Shyly, with dainty movements, they take turns,
shifting aside their robes to expose
missing limbs and gaping wounds.
The others gather close and peer, heads cocked,
eyes straining, and they chant,
"That is lovely, that is good,"
and the wounds stop weeping,
and they melt into scars,
silvery and light and beautiful.
Then the women lean back and laugh,
and they stretch, sensual and fierce,
like cats in the sun.

Saturday, April 28, 2012

A Long Converstation With Myself

How sweet, how nice
to be able to say,
“I talked to myself about that today.”
“I had a long conversation,
with myself, me and I
and together we mulled
and twisted and tried
and we came to consensus
and I see my way
and I can live with my answer.”
What a nice thing to say.
But think, how much better
to stand up and say
“I don’t talk to myself.
Instead I pray.”
“I’ve got a pipeline to God.
It may sound absurd,
but any thoughts that I have
aren’t mine; they’re His Word.”
They can’t argue with you.
They won’t fuss and won’t fight,
if your thoughts are God’s thoughts
then you must be right.
Don’t think your own thoughts,
don’t take credit or blame.
Tell yourself you talk to God
and that you speak in His name.
You will always be right
with the thoughts you’ve been told,
no matter how stupid,
each word’s dipped in gold.
So when you talk to yourself
pretend that you heard
the voice of God,
then you’ll have the last word.
--Sappho

No comments:

Post a Comment