Space

Three-Word Wednesday prompt was tough this week. Went ahead and threw something together anyway. Three words were conniption, janky, scooch. Slinging slang on this one.

Space

This janky world.
A growing cosmic
conniption fit
of hatred and violence:
words offered
programs engaged
money funneled
armies deployed
have failed to fix
our fractures.

What if we
just scooch over,
make room for
everyone,
every creature,
welcome all?

Of course it will
never work. So
we continue
to build the tombs
of the prophets
and martyrs
stone upon stone:
shake our heads
deafen our ears
adorn our homes
capitalize
our personal
space.

Abyss

Messing with a Three-Word Wednesday prompt from last week. Ended up with this. Only used two words though. Oh well.

Abyss

It doesn’t seem surreal to me,
this kenotic journey
beyond hair, skin,
vessels and organs
into the heartself.

I go. And it is enough
simply to descend, lower
still, past desire for power,
to meet the small voice
wooing me into the expanse,

the kingdom within. The path
tending toward life through death
follows close-eyed watchfulness
and empty fullness.
World above worlds,

Word above words
entered by the silent
startled traveler. Love-spent,
in the gentle healing Light
where all is quiet.

Heaney. One of the greats. Of all time.

The Skylight

You were the one for skylights. I opposed

Cutting into the seasoned tongue-and-groove

Of pitch pine. I liked it low and closed,

Its claustrophobic, nest-up-in-the-roof

Effect. I liked the snuff-dry feeling,

The perfect, trunk-lid fit of the old ceiling.

Under there, it was all hutch and hatch.

The blue slates kept the heat like midnight thatch.

But when the slates came off, extravagant

Sky entered and held surprise wide open.

For days I felt like an inhabitant

Of that house where the man sick of the palsy

Was lowered through the roof, had his sins forgiven,

Was healed, took up his bed and walked away.

–Seamus Heaney