LINES WRITTEN TO MY FRIEND, AJA THOMAS

This morning a doe and her fawn have come from the river
to eat green branches of a honey locust tree
cut and piled for burning.

In time we lose interest in who we are supposed to be.
I am a box of air, emptying and filling,
emptying again.

When I believe I am something special
drawn to this belief by hidden fear,
I feel it as loss.

Your friendship is a gift.
It reminds me I am still alive.
Keeps me focused on the simple longing for God.

When I think of you, I am happy.

“God Rocks” painted by Aja Thomas of Barnashram

WHEN PAIN COMES, A MAN WILL TAKE IT

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for my friend, Aja Thomas

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In the scarred palms of my hands I hear your voice
telling me
when pain comes a man will take it.

A man will drink the bitter water
drink the bitter water and swallow it.

A man will let pain have its way
not like a whore does for a paying customer
but as husband to wife, wife to husband.

Who we are has always known how to make a temple out of stones
soma out of blood
a joyful noise from the crying, from the terrible crying
of the heart.

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