When she whispered
I am speaking through your heart
I knew she meant not to me.
She who is larger than the stars
gave promise to shrink into my heart,
become a mystery to solve a mystery.
Comes the day, I pray hello
as I open the door to my heart
and fall asleep.
The doctor enters with his lovely light
looking for places that need more light.
She who relaxes with the angels welcomes him,
answers his questions
until my heart is lit and love
radiates cleanly in every direction.
I awaken to a heart in me
that is neither muscle nor drum,
but glowing space, a vessel
of soft light to guide my way,
a mystery to solve a mystery.
Mother Mary with the morning sun above and a small green orb of light below, a blessing.
When you see my signature
it means you are awakening
to your life as a miracle
Midsummer, I saw the letter M in a web of branches against the sunset, and thought, oh, the signature of Mary. But as the summer went on, I noticed a lot of hearts.
With each heart, I experienced a reassuring sense of Her divine presence in my life.
My favorite heart was a spectacular cloud formation in the center of ominous cumulus clouds. I was afloat in the town pool at the time, without a camera. I found this particular heart to be the most compelling heart image of all, maybe because it was so gigantic. Or maybe because all I could do was be with it, fully. Be with the heart of Mary.
No need to search for her signature. It’s always there.
Blessing from the Sun
In the morning I open to the sun
my face becomes a gold coin
that absorbs the light
and channels it down to my core
where the boundaries of my heart dissolve
into an orb of transfiguring light
I’m transported to Italy where I’ve never been
to an apartment that would be mine
I open the shutters on the window
which opens the shutters of this orb
my light spills out
my arms float like gossamer fabric
my legs are gilded and statuesque
my organs fuse into one organ
the kind you would find in a basilica
playing Bach while saints sway in the murals
the lyrical flow continues
my light blesses everyone in the street
blesses every fruit tree and flower and stone
until the sun has set and the golden coin is spent
I was playing around with a familiar bible verse, and ended up with a prayer that is fun to say, and yet remains in full reverence of the great Artist. Flower, in this context, is extremely powerful to me. Who else could have devised such perfect beauty? Who else can make a flower?
The second half of the poem delivers one of my deepest personal prayer requests. My hope is that if you are moved, you might say the prayer for yourself, substituting your own request in the three repeating lines.
As everything in this poem—flowers, miles, heart—is both literal and metaphor, may God fill your miles with many flowers.
(This, then, is a prayer)
Our Father, Artist of Heaven
Flower Be Thy Name
And with Thy Son
the healing is done
in me, as a sign of Heaven
That I may walk for miles in joy
that I may Walk for Miles in joy
refresh my Heart
with Flower Art
that I may walk for miles in Joy