There's something about mountain biking
that makes me feel more like a woman,
strong and beautiful and life-giving
Something that lets me unashamedly wear a sports bra and no shirt
even though my back is dripping with sweat, & my navel is not perfect
And when my legs pedal faithfully
up hills both daunting and mere--
I hardly care that my calves are covered in bruises from the pedals,
my knees stained by the chain,
my thighs powerful, not slender
Because this is my body,
and it does incredible things
daughter of Havah, I honor the Maker.
10.27.2008
10.17.2008
[Love, personified].
grains of sand on your fingertips
(your fingers are getting so long, now)
you turn water into wine
(and we wonder, are you some kind of magician?)
your sandals are covered in dust
(by now, your feet have trod at least a thousand miles)
they say you have no place to lay your head
and i don't know how, but you're getting into me
my veins were clear, but the blood is turning red again (for the first time?)
and that couple on the bus, the #9?
that homeless african-american woman,
her head slumped on the shoulder of the white man next to her,
his chin tilted down until it rested on his chest--
murmurings of peace etched my lips
and i desired to rub their sore shoulders, bent necks, tired skulls
the man awoke for the briefest of moments, called me very beautiful
before his eyes wavered shut again, unable to stave off exhaustion
i don't know how, but you're getting into me.
(your fingers are getting so long, now)
you turn water into wine
(and we wonder, are you some kind of magician?)
your sandals are covered in dust
(by now, your feet have trod at least a thousand miles)
they say you have no place to lay your head
and i don't know how, but you're getting into me
my veins were clear, but the blood is turning red again (for the first time?)
and that couple on the bus, the #9?
that homeless african-american woman,
her head slumped on the shoulder of the white man next to her,
his chin tilted down until it rested on his chest--
murmurings of peace etched my lips
and i desired to rub their sore shoulders, bent necks, tired skulls
the man awoke for the briefest of moments, called me very beautiful
before his eyes wavered shut again, unable to stave off exhaustion
i don't know how, but you're getting into me.
10.14.2008
10.07.2008
blow on, santa anas
mix and mingle with the cold north wind
blow on my garden [that its spices may flow out]
melting my transatlantic heart
swoop, swoop low, brother owl
come, come near, Sky Spirit
this is my body: grass & goosebumps & moonlight
these are my eyelids: heavy with stars
this white wheat, soft as a lamb on my fingertips
oh, take my hand, pull me into the fields
oh, take my hand, lay me open under the night
blow on my garden [that its spices may flow out]
melting my transatlantic heart
swoop, swoop low, brother owl
come, come near, Sky Spirit
this is my body: grass & goosebumps & moonlight
these are my eyelids: heavy with stars
this white wheat, soft as a lamb on my fingertips
oh, take my hand, pull me into the fields
oh, take my hand, lay me open under the night
10.02.2008
nobody's advocate
to be identified with those with whom you identify
to remain in a commitment that's not flashy
because, like arianna has said, faithfulness isn't really the sexy choice
but, oh, how i long for a heart unerring
to help sing all your daughters and sons
into the simple & difficult way
to remain in a commitment that's not flashy
because, like arianna has said, faithfulness isn't really the sexy choice
but, oh, how i long for a heart unerring
to help sing all your daughters and sons
into the simple & difficult way
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