The Marina

The Marina                6/17/98

There is a window above my head
When I look up I can see heaven
I am in the berth of a wooden boat in a safe, quiet harbor.
He kindly made it open for me and left it so
Me, my heart all churning
Pillow all damp, and questions swirling

I am a woman in labor
Birthing a heart that is breached
And knowing--
No....
Trusting that it will all come around right.

(She said, I could not bear to lose this child
It has cost too much
And when faced with one or the other
What can I say?
Let me die first---Just don’t lose the child).

So many things to say
The fingers of the heart entwining the curly locks of hope
How easy it was for the soul to feel hungry;
And whatever it was that reached out and clasped the heart
Could feel the heart when clay is dissolving in the light.

How shy I feel, heart all wounded with wonder

These are consolations, then.
In the light of what I’m dealing with,
Knowing I will forgive
And God Himself will heal my crushed heart,
There will be courage to open again.

It is given that you are brother to me, consolation.
And in the light of what you deal with
Knowing that you bear no grudges
I see the Great One drawing you.

Consolations, then. 
I will be sister to you for those you lost.

(She is weak
But she is healing, not dying.
This disease will not triumph over her).