Apogee

The girl-child mama ties her daughters to her–kites, they rise

Aloft in the summer breeze

Curl, swirl, dip, and sing

Bird-children

While faraway grandmother

Ponders apogee

The furthest point one can be from another.

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When you get lonely

Go for a run in a safe, well-lit place

Sing your God songs, loud if possible

Kick around in the Gospels, the Jesus stories, the Bible project, CS of course

Ask Him direct questions

We love you sooo much

But He is love–

oceans-are-small-compared-love

No-story-too-small-love

Big-sky-love

Lonely awful die-for-us love

Lend us a child like you, Love

Arms wide open love

The stars are more than fire love

In the dark sky they admonish/love

He will never leave you, never walk away

Dear Heart,

I keep thinking about the video of you when you were wee, all dumpling, sass, and wild curls. You were getting ready for something, and judging by your cute little dress, something liturgical. Your dad told you to say goodbye to the camera, but you misunderstood him and thought it was me.

You protested, but she’s my mommy!

Seems like both yesterday and three lives ago.

There are no words for how much you mean to me.

No words for how hard it is to close the book on the always with you chapter of your life.

I love you

All you have been to me

All the joy you are to me.

Poured out perfume which fills the room

Forever.

Love,

But-she’s-my-mommy

The parable of the retold

I remember you

I remember when you ran into the waiting room with your sister

I remember all the warnings and admonitions I got from Martha-the-caseworker and your recently relieved first foster mom

And your blue-as-the-sea implacable gaze across a very misguided table

I remember your speech therapist and her fairy godmother-like delight in seeing you make eye contact and in watching your self-inflicted facial wounds

Heal and not return

Storms all over the place

Storms in you swirled all around us, even when I tried to contain them.

God Calls Us to Pursue

I break the second commandment all the time, sow dragon’s teeth in this suburban front yard, draw the greenest leaves down and through my fingers loosing embryo acorns and the shifting compass of the setting sun. It is the girls who say these most beautiful things, white linen things pinned to a line and lifted by the wind beneath a slivery moon

“It looks like a stone rolled away

Like a stone in the very act of being

Rolled away

Matthew 2:1,2 and 28:1,2