LAUDS
The first movement
comes in silence
a soft ripple
on the surface
like silk in the breeze
slowly then
the sun
still hidden away
beyond the horizon
clothes the fog
in bright white robes
quietly rising
like the mists of Avalon
from the still waters
of the lake
its lover’s veil
casually lifting
revealing glimpses
of a larger life
In these Divine rites
in this early morning Mass
I have no answer
I make no vows
only the cool touch
of these holy waters
upon my brow
The first rays appear
as if by surprise
and the cattails rise
to meet them
glittering
in the diamond garments
of their vernal frost
and then I see
the egret
appearing as if
from another world
stalking
above the bright mirror
of the waters
reflecting
as in glass
the dance of the dragonflies
Beneath the canopy
of this white morning
and the chorus of frogs
now chanting their Lauds
I kneel in the cold mud
from which I am made
one hand rooted
in my sister Earth
the other straining
toward the sky.
Could there be a longing
more strange than this?
A love more resplendent
in mystery?
Perhaps we are
the thought of God
he doesn’t understand.
Perhaps we are
the heart of everything
he is.
Perhaps he hides to save us
because there is no other way
for us to come to love.
This is my worship.
Before I rise
I pluck a long stem of grass
and smile as I nestle it
between my lips
a final gesture
of playful invitation
to the Mystery
I know
is watching me too