Our Mother

Our Mother

Who sits here in this kitchen with me

Your name is Love

You bring new life

You spark new hope

And you are weaving together heaven and earth.

Fill our bellies and our souls today,

Help us to love our sisters and brothers

With the same love you lavish on us,

The love we all need and want.

And send us out from this kitchen

To be the bearers of light, life, and hope

To a dark, hungry world

Because this food is too good not to share

This story begs to be told

And your glory never ends,

Amen.

epiphany child

The sixth of January,
Epiphany,
great feast of light,
a day for what has
until now been largely
hidden to be
unveiled --

and my due date.

It fits, as my
three little kings
watch eagerly,
waiting for treasures
long in darkness
to be brought forth
in light.

May it be so
with you, my daughter,
my little star.
May you come to be
a lamp uncovered,
a story shared
with those who have
not yet heard,
a glowing manifestation
of Christ's bright glory,
an epiphany.

sickbed mass

Prayer, and the laying
on of hands,
anointing the head,
singing the psalms.
Offering the cup by
candlelight,
the great thanksgiving.
All these I do
and more tonight,
priest of the bunk bed
parish, keeping the
night watch,
tending the sick.
The Holy Fathers
must have been
watching the mothers
when they wrote
the Missal.

liturgy in utero

Cheek to belly pressed,
he speaks his sister
blessings,
the little priest.
A litany of baby love
he sings into the dark,
a brother monk.
"Big, strong baby girl!"
his final benediction:
Alleluia and amen,
my prophet son.