Rosary

The Rosary of my Steps

I would pray for those who serve, as they hold the door.
Give them your presence today. Cause me to serve others.
But, it is early.
With slow-waking muscles I trudge to the train.
Thoughtless.

Past the fruit man, I would pray (I will pray, tomorrow)
Thank you for our daily food.
Past the mosque on the corner. I would pray (I will pray)
May we all know your peace, and your Son.

Up the hill, I catch a glimpse of the cross on a church.
Finally, my soul awakens. I pray a "good morning."
Thank you for this day, Lord.
Thank you for reminders to pray.

The train.
Crowds with dull faces and eyes lowered.
Allow me to lift my eyes and heart to you, today.
The Hunter College stop
Teach me to prepare my girls for the day they go to college.
Realizing - what I faced in college, they will experience much earlier.
Teach me to prepare them. I want to fortify them with dependence on you.

My stop. I approach St. Barts -
the "Experience God" church.
I want to experience you today, God.
I pray that those around me do, too.
People brush past. Intercede for others.
God, may we know you today.
Who shall I pray for?

I wait for the light at a crosswalk.
May my crossings and decisions be led by you today.

The instinct to hurry, to get ahead,
Surges through me.
I forget prayer, and watch for opportunity.

I want to get to the intersection first.
I scan for bottlenecks in my path, and adjust my speed to win.
How quickly I lose focus.
How easily I revert to a state of nature.
God, draw my mind to you.

My day begins.
Lord, teach me to pray.

bath time poetic

My arms are broken, and I didn't feel a thing.
The doctor on duty calls out,
"I'm out of pig-water. I need dinosaur-water to fix this.
Can you hand me that green dinosaur?"

They assist each other,
passing tools through the bubbles;
Squirters and sponges, the yellow plastic teacup.
I help too, although injured,
refilling animal squirters as needeed.

Warm water washes over my injury.
My doctors lavish gentle caresses on my arms.
They are serious about my treatment plan.
Regarding my arms with intense scrutiny
until they can declare that I'm whole.

The younger doctor's left hand gently squeezes my forearm.
At the same time, in the same rhythym,
her right nand squeezes water from a dinosaur.

The older doctor is bent over my arm,
telling me that everything will be all right.
My arms won't hurt for long. They are near a cure.
She brushes sponge up and down my arm.

Fortunately, I'm completely recovered with
Plenty of time to get the towels
and pajamas ready.
Soon I'll read the doctors a bedtime story
and tuck them in.