The assumed division
does not exist
in this holy place.
We cannot choose
between actions and speech,
for our bodies are mouths.
They open wide.
I stand with the little ones
at the front of the room.
We are singing in sign.
You are watching in silence
while hands around you sing along.
What more could I expect from you,
dear friend?
You were the first to
make me feel
welcome, to
hear my hands
as they shared my heart,
and to ridicule what I hold most dear.
“I’d choose Judas.”
We are singing to God,
asking that our eyes, ears, hearts
be opened.
My face pleads.
My body proclaims.
I feel God making me
elegant, eloquent.
All hands fall silent,
and we look at each other.
The story-teller is seeing
something
true and beautiful.
I know you are.
I read this post to my students at Four Rivers a month ago. I have neglected to mention to you that a week ago I discovered one of my students kept a copy of it under the clear plastic covering of her 3-ring binder. She told me that she has read your poem over and over because she thinks it is beautiful. This is the student who motivated me to go on my latest poem appreciation spree. She said several months ago that she hated poetry (she thought it all had to rhyme). I told her then that she has such passion inside of her that she should write poetry. Thanks to you, we are getting closer!
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