She felt as if she had stepped off the very edge of the earth
Following the gull she tilted her head to its arc of flight
Her pocket filled with a beachcomber’s small treasure
Fingering each curve and dash of the shells awash with sun and sea
In the early evening light the sea shimmered and shifted gently
The tones of lapis and turquoise dazzled her vision
while the white sand beneath her feet cushioned the touch of the earth
Taking a deep breath of the salt air she wished she could live here forever.
These small child’s handprints on my glass backdoor
the sticky applesauce and popsicle on my kitchen floor
I wouldn’t trade for all the mansions in this world.
These conversations with my daughter’s
the new territories in this journey
I wouldn’t miss for all the fame this world could offer.
These days I count as precious gems
to the road that leads me round the bend
I will simply give my sweetest Hallelujah.
Well I tried to make it Sunday
but that ocean tide came calling
I stopped on the way for some Tupelo honey
just know my soul needs healing…
My Angels have grown older now
though they do not tire of my journey
they bring comfort to my soul
they guard me in my worry…
There are no words needing to be spoken
there is no darkness I cannot face
I will sit beside the ocean blue
and for a time it will be a resting place…
(“Rachmones”:this is a Hebrew word for womb…It is the definition of a compassion as deep and as undeniable as what a mother feels for her child). A little set up for the journal essay below…love you and your family.
I got up very early on Sunday morning and sat on a bench in the park…I wondered what it would be like to leave my Christian self and shrug off the garment of My Lord’s bloody cloak. I remember standing up and bowing to my knees. The stillness and holiness of that place brought to my mind the word’s “Lord have mercy… “Chrieste eleison.” Then I thought of the former life I had shed because of Christ and how he had withheld his anger from me and has shown me His Mercy. The Yiddish word for Mercy is “rachmones”, whose root is “rechem” the Hebrew word for womb.
Myself being a mother and now a grandmother I am sure once again that God is my father and my mother, the silent mother of mercy, if you will. In his transcendence He is not limited in any way. I know that I could no sooner cease being a Christian then I can cease being me…So I picked up my bloody cloak of Jesus Christ and put it back on gladly. I pray that if anyone sees anything at all the rest of my life it will be God, the silent mother of Mercy, Rachmones.
I lie down under the burden
of the courage that I lack
For you to see the sin in me
cannot be taken back
It is my greatest fear at times
you might finally know
The dark and filth I tasted once
I never want to show
Exposure of who I really am
could drive your love away
After all you’re only human
dare I hope that you would stay?
The truth of exposure that I do not fear
is a mystery not of loss
but a debt that is paid fully
willingly hung upon the Cross
I walk by the gulf
the tide is out
the moon wanes half past blue
The salty brine
soothes my feet
and wildflowers thread the dunes
Jade green water
laps at the shore
my inner cathedral sings praise
I whisper to you
for the gift of another day.
All of the tourists have gone away
there are no more t-shirts for sale today
The rest of the locals are raising a toast
back to the quiet and the pull of the moon
No footprints in the sand, no hurrying to do
There is no other sky like October blue
the deep blue waves call out to you
My heart is captured by the lure of the Sea
That autumn wind still carries me
I want to walk on the beach in my old sweatshirt
just looking for shells and listen to the surf