I Know My Name

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You look and you learn
You seek and you see 
But this shirt I slept in
This shirt that I wept in
Is the shirt where I learned to see me

It’s the shirt that I’ll dance in
It’s the shirt that I’ll love in
And tho’ it’s still stained 
With milk and not meat
It will not be made a mockery

Rolled Shirt Sleeves

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Where white silk has never been worn
Nor promises ever spilled forth
No petals tossed up in good sport

None troubadours have set the scene 
No busy-ers to plan the dream
The path forth untrodden and green

With eyes that see sacred in place
Beside Love’s Best Fly-ing Ace
The air with my oath I’ll then grace 

Kind, Wild, Friend

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“August 25th,” she said and thought breathlessly, searching for wisdom and a pen. “I have called you friends.” Joy…surrender…eyes on Him. Yes, all wise mortar for new Life. 

Onto love. It doesn’t matter the date, love “Is.” Daily. Lasts only a moment, but exists in each moment. Thanks, god. Her method today: seek it upside down and backward. Flip with eyes closed through its intentionally silky pages and choose the one just after the most proud. Turn it up-side-up and look to your right. There he is. Talking about wild again. Blurred, inked wild. Yes, this is only love. 

Truth?  She knows so. Here, see youth, invasion, then the dark surrender – but not invasion of the soul, not surrender of the spirit. She takes from today its lesson and gives back the gift of her understanding. Yes, truth demands kindness and compassion nevertheless. 

He placed a piece of His divine in us all, she’s relieved to learn. “I have called you friends….”