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scraps_0001

Scraps…

The familiar.
What makes for the look sideways,
Over there?
Just to make sure the stuff is in its place.

Is it the dream?
That maybe.
Another look, only one this week.
Might it appear different?
Transformed!

Truly, it was the imagination,
All of those cruel words.
Words, words, and words…
Hurled words, like boulders.

Am I alive
Or merely a shell
The remnant of a person?
Having withstood, facing head-on,
With few words of my own
In combat.

Fail quickly, someone told me,
Too late!

See there, the empty, bent trash can.
Fill and tie a tight, square knot, with lid crammed shut.
The heavy thing carried away, by someone else.
A kind, hardworking soul.
Or, the virtual trash can, that makes a real sound.

Who cares how?
Only in the gratitude
That the space is now cleared.
New meaning allowed for, in this pretend life,
My one chance, I presume.

Limp to the safety.
Of the empty space.

And, rest for a while.

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.

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Become a minister of the Eucharist
And, see the world.

Ours is a world of hands
Human hands – opened
And, of human hands – receiving.

Two hands held near heart, uplifted!
With faces and eyes gazing in reverence.
Of vulnerability, at the Gift.
In sharing, of commonality.

How can I not know
That I am safe in this world.
When I see these hands?

I am knocked down onto my knees
By this holy experience, of shared belief
That there is more to this world
Than any of us can see while in our human bodies.

In wavelike lines, waiting our turn, and we trust.
Every week we receive, as if medicine.
Our sharing in this ritual of Eucharist.

Though, here in Church, we are disconnected
From the streets and the lights of the city
In which our lives really occur.
Daily living, filled with chores that have become duties.

Where the world is – of voices.
Talk, and waiting for another turn,
To talk again.

Now I know and understand
That our God is a God of Silence
And, my heart sings with relief!

I can go anywhere.
I can be anyone.
I already am!

Loretta Warner, I Love Knitting
Poet and writer who uses all things textile – as a distraction.

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