Saturday, March 14, 2015

The Coach and the Contemplative


Image result for public domain image of hockey

Your girls will take the ice in an hour,
and I am listening to a quiet cello.
I laughed when I considered the image—
girls slamming into boards,
you throwing your voice as your will,
the way the rink smells like winter,
like sweat and brilliance.
And I am sitting in a darkened chapel,
silence all around,
beeswax and tea and labyrinths,
a secret smile on my lips.
I like how sometimes,
we are the mix of quiet and energy,
of retreat and excitement,

and all of it love in its many textures and moods.

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