Tuesday, March 21, 2017

World Poetry Day, 2017

World Poetry Day, 2017

If I was a poem-me, I'd be
a circus juggler meets Sor Juana
with a niggle of Neruda and a 
waltz of Walt.
The swing of Hughes' blues
and the scat-patter of Fitzgerald
would herald speaking of light 
like May Sarton who for pages
places flowers in vases
and I'd illuminate the letters
as did my brothers and sisters
who in convent and monastery
took up quills and honestly
worked to open the windows
behind the Word so the world
could see what was being heard
when proclamation occurred
and the glory of the story
was suddenly off the pages for the ages
free to fly, do or die--

You and I
decide now, today,
that Poetry stays:
To nourish, to heal, to delight, to praise,
to call, to soothe, to challenge, 
to be
where people can meet in full humanity.

If I was a poem-me,
that's the sort I'd want to be.

Kimberly M. King, RSCJ

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Love in a Time of Lent

The other day someone recited a passage from Isaiah 43 to close a conversation we'd had. 
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia[a] and Seba in exchange for you. Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you...
As I listened to these words, I knew I had heard them many times before. In a way, some measure of the truth within them is with me always and there is a strengthening comfort in that familiarity. There was more, though...more than the familiar...there was the feeling of new, of first glimpsing this mystery of Love and feeling the bloom of awe and the shiver of proximity to something so absolute, so Always and Everywhere, and freeing, and Home, all at the same time... 
The idea that both of those feelings could be true at the same time thrilled me and humbled me and had me give thanks.

After Listening to Isaiah
I realized how comfortable
we are drying dishes
beside one another, old familiars.
I also know that I could still
drop a plate when you call my name
and promise me forever.
Your love has 
that shimmy effect on me.
Always has. Always will.

Kimberly M. King, rscj