O my dear creator help me to channel you!
Months have passed since I made anything. Speechlessness
is bad for both writer and teacher—and what else
can I be? On this wee patch of earth, I’m waiting.Typing here, I’m waiting for guidance. Cleaning up trashfrom passing cars, I wait. Cultivating pine treesand bushes of red and yellow roses, I wait.Counting three parts per foot, I am waiting for you.Counting four feet per line, I am waiting for you.I’m occupying this corner as a free zonewhile I wait, although I haven’t told this story.Has waiting become its own prayer, creator?Is this where you want me? Can I serve standing here?Amen then. I’ll pray and wait for you without fear.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
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© 2021 Susan L. Chast
Oh yes, you ARE serving standing there. With your poems, your zoom meetings with Friends, and with your being, which is all about peace , respect and social justice. We are putting good into the universe with our tending of plants and trees and the picking up of litter. I am adding to that letters to all relevant government officials as we are trying to save Fairy Creek. Numbers of defenders are growing including a phalanx of seniors who shook their canes at police - police gave up and went home that day, they cant arrest 95 seniors. LOL. I love this poem. It sings.
ReplyDeleteAll ways of waiting and living while hoping for and doing good are valid... Sherry is right, this sings!
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