Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Al-Jame’: Gathering of Polished Stones

what happens when I float
boneless in warm saltwater,
and simply stare into the circle of light.
My hands are open,
my chest wide,
and there is a trust here.
I resist righting myself,
sorting this gray rock
from that ruby,
and even though I know
the door will open soon,
and cold fall air
will waft this moment outward,
I don’t quite want to
weave myself in with others.
Sometimes in the This and/or That,
we miss this Everything,
and I have too often been a child
with too many voices
in her head.
Can I just trust
that beneath me,
beneath even this water holding me
You are cupping your hands,
the work of Gathering
already complete?


Find the entire poetry collection This Nurturing Awe:  Poems Inspired by the 99 Beautiful Names of God at


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