The Locks

Looking out over the railing of the Ballard Locks, I can read clearly the sign that commands "No wake." Boats gather without argument, a smooth flow of motion.

I want to post a sign in my channel. Struggling against the waves of conformity in my family leave me weather beaten and ready to dock anywhere else but here.

Thoughts

I want to be awake, to feel God nudge me from a deep and weary sleep.

I've been taught that listening to the Spirit means hearing everything wrong about me. A spiritual life exacts a scouring of my inner-self for hidden motives and secret sin. But I am tired of trying to look at my reflection without flinching at the ugliness of me. Melancholy brushes its rough texture across my memory.

Can thoughts change? Can I see my life as abundant? I push against the lies that kill, the thoughts which drive us to sleep during daylight. Today I will silence all verbs except those that invite me to swim, splash and kiss.


Pull me from dark dreams.

Awake, my soul.

One of my favorite poets

Notes from the Other Side:

I divested myself of despair
and fear when I came here.

Now there is no more catching
one's own eye in the mirror,

there are no bad books, no plastic,
no insurance premiums, and of course

no illness. Contrition
does not exist, nor gnashing

of teeth. No one howls as the first
clod of earth hits the casket.

The poor we no longer have with us.
Our calm hearts strike only the hour,

and God, as promised, proves
to be mercy clothed in light.

-Jane Kenyon

I would like to be on the other side...