18 July 2015

Welcome to Our Table

Rainbow Shabbat
Source


Grace
that you visit
Grace
that we know your presence
Grace
that the food nourishes
Grace
that the drink quenches
Grace
that we have enough to share
Grace
that this is neither our first
nor our last supper



at Imaginary Garden at Real Toads.



Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast



16 July 2015

A Philosophy of Equality


How easy to talk with God if swimming
in God-ness which swims in us and speaking
from God in us to that of God in others:

Breathing images into bubbles to
release later, seeing how—if—they float
in company.  Fielding bubbles in play.

How to fear, then, others who expose them-
selves in the shallows of humanity
while heading on toward the deeper end?

When I go too deep or over my head
When my feet cannot feel their grounding
When I need help sharing and bubbling

When free floating assured and most alive
When shouting and purring inside and out
When working, mingling and making waves.



at dVerse Poets Pub

Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast



15 July 2015

My Power

High voltage warning
source


Someone will get burned when we interrupt
the current patterns.  Do it anyway.
Electrify yourself or someone else
with surprise No’s to using privilege:
No, I won't get in front of the line just
because I can.  No, I won't cross picket
lines.  I won't use credit denied to all.

Why leave the power of NO in the hands
of two-year olds?  Why cruise from perk to perk
instead of reaching for our neighbors’ hands?
You too could be surprised by something new:
waking to see your hedge trimmed and your lawn
mowed, finding new tax cuts because all pay
also find more perks for your brothers.

I’m trying to say something outrageous
and scathing, something to singe your arm hair
and stink of burning flesh as old patterns
die—but I am failing miserably!
Where is the stench of power changing hands? 
Where is the fire located that can burn
profits oppressing people of color?

My fingers are on fire.  I cannot stop
burning as I walk past homeless people,
sick people, displaced people and broken
people.  My heart is open but my door
still closes and my power lies dormant.
Power is as power does, but I don’t
know how to seize the day on fire, or not.



Posted for my prompt 

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Power



Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast



14 July 2015

Turning Silver into Gold


for Aheshia

God’s power flowed through her own silver tongue
because it must, it must surround and join
her friend in prayer, piercing pride and pain
depressing healing nerves and cuts and knife
promises screaming to be heard.  They pray
with her inexpert guide over the phone
and she can hear when words take prayer to
her friend:  

Release her from the blame she lays
along her wound, the blame she drinks along
with help she needs, the blame she swallows with
her pills.  Too weak, the meds leave her begging
for more and screaming—God, please enter her
she prays and on and on.  She speaks, inside
a whisper, too: Please God, strengthen my faith
to turn my weak and fumbling tongue into
a blessing for my friend, a golden ray
of softened hurt so she can have her grace.

Don’t let on that she hasn’t prayed before,
not words like these pried from her hope and grief,
not words like these that left her self behind,
and not, when done, true prayer leaving her
refreshed and touched in every way she wished
her friend would feel that God was with her too.
Her, too.  Is touched by healing prayer.  God.



Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast

13 July 2015

This Week

Crochet Tree, New York City, 2012


Examine my calendar for free time
with the mantra “Got to do it, Got to
do it” playing  unconsciously until—

I listen to myself and chide, “No shoulds!”
No shoulds!” and let this catchphrase extinguish
the other.  And yet I have still to list

To dos and desires and appointments that
intersperse sleep and crochet the flavors
of hours not merely used or spent but part

Of the fabric of life blessed at this week’s
listing of items that should not be lost
though I lose the list, though I list sideways

To enter the God-given openings
I do so purposefully, happily
marking my calendar with the have dones.



Written for Gillena's prompt at 

Monday WRites 20





Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast



09 July 2015

Shall We Meet Again?

File:Red Roses (6862116332).jpg
Source


Have you stopped trying 
to be a circle,
rounding corners and 
cycles as sky taught?
What goes around and 
do unto others
humanize us as 
waltzes unwind tight
twosomes and create 
desire in singles.
Everything natural 
(and much unnatural)
shares overlapping 
cycles of birth, growth,
maturity, wear-
down and death.  Witness
the rose I sent last 
anniversary:
Don’t its petals still 
nestle in your glass
china cabinet 
with the unused plates
remaining from grand-
mother’s wedding gift?
Shall we meet again?  
Have the red petals
faded and crumbled? 
Or have they reformed?

Copyright © 2015  S.L.Chast