Sunday, March 3, 2019

day SEVEN HUNDRED and SEVENTY THREE


AN ORDINARY CHANT

             
You say it enough times it almost
                   sounds like a prayer
                        Steve Lopez, L.A. Times 2/20/2011*


Let me hug you, hold your pain ― is what he said
with his arm ‘round my shoulder, his palm on my head.
He said, come closer, lean toward me, rest your head.
So, I put my head on his chest, his black robe, then he said
Let your pain go, you are safe, you can cry here with me.
I let myself go.  I cried, like he said.

He said, You need love, let me guide you. Let me show
you the way, while stroking my arms, ears, and neck,
and the hair of my head.  No need to fear love, love is pure,
in our nature. He said ― Love is God’s gift,

makes us whole.  Accept God's love ― is what he said
as he moved  his hand from my head, to my breasts,
to my legs, to that place in between.  He said  
Let us join in God’s love. Together, let us cry out in joy.

Touch me here. Drink of me. A communion,  he said,
his fingers laced and locked in the braid on my head.
He said, Loving's pure, is God’s will.
You’ll be cleansed.  Then, he said, as he pushed
             Bow your head
                         Bow your head
                                      Bow your head
           

--Susan Beem

Susan Beem is a 70 year old retired Family Physician, who got hooked on writing during a difficult phase of family life and career. She's never met a word she didn't like and want to use in a poem. She has long hated how women are treating in this world.

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