The question comes
As I knew it would
Quiet as a whisper
Through early morning sounds
Of cricket chirps and bird canticles
Over a steaming mug of my favorite
Guatemalan coffee
“Is your spirit quiet this morning?”
For a moment
I wait
Not ready to answer
Not ready to commit
To something that would bind my spirit
With one word
Again,
I read the words
I hear the words
I feel the words
I breathe the words
Of this question that carries with it
Care and concern and peace
I know
That my spirit is not just quiet
Not this day
Not these weeks
Or months
Or moments
This day
My spirit is remembering
Thinking
Hovering
Pouring
Pondering
About and of and over
People and places
And me
This day
My spirit is remembering
A bright, sunny September morning
Twenty-one years ago
When a blue-eyed boy
Came into this world
Out of my womb and into my heart
My spirit is remembering
The smiles and tears of that morning
The hopes and promises of that day
The deep peace that enveloped the room
And the knowledge
That this child is like no other
Knowing things, I will never understand
Teaching me a different way
To see this world
Through the eyes of a poet-scientist
Steeped in principles and realities of physics
Writing the lines
In the nooks and crannies
Of miniscule and massive spaces
That contain the mysteries of the universe
And the majesty of the Holy
This day
My spirit is thinking
About another young man
Whose wedding I will officiate
In a few days to come
Whose life has already
Endured indescribable anguish
That even he could not understand
And darkness
That thought it could overtake him
But really was just a backdrop
For the light of Love
That found him and saved him
Encouraged him and
Offered to stand beside him
From now on
In the dark days and light days
In the healing and the hope
In the present and the future
This day
My spirit is hovering
Among German vineyards
Blessing the grapes that are ready
For harvest
Among the acres
Where my ancestors walked
Smelling the fragrance of earth
Drinking in the colors
Of sun kissed
And rain blessed
Fruit of the vine
That paired with bread
Brings about the celebration
Of life and love and mercy and Eucharist
And this day
There in that same country
My ancestral home
So beautiful and intriguing
Unbound by time and space
My spirit is pouring
Unceasing prayer
Over and around and upon
A beloved child of God
Without really knowing anything
Without needing to know anything except
That my prayer
Holds power and support
For this one that God embraces
With love and mercy
This day
My spirit is pondering
The transformation that I feel
The possibilities for
Days and weeks
Months and years
To come
The strength that has emerged
From my very being
And the words that bubble up
Through my sun kissed and rain blessed soul
“Where can I go from your Spirit?
If I take to the wings of the morning. . .
Even there your right hand shall hold me fast. . .”
So the question comes again
As I knew it would
Quiet as a whisper
Through the night sounds of crickets
Endless, comforting chirping
Over a steaming mug of my favorite
Earl Grey tea
“Is your spirit quiet this evening?”
Yes, oh yes
My spirit is quiet
And green
And thriving
In the midst of the Spirit
Whose right hand holds me fast.
“My Spirit is Green” was written September 12-13, 2018
References made to Psalm 139:9-10, NRSV
Poem and photos © Alicia Randolph Rapking
prayers of my heart, a collection of articles and writings by C. Alicia Randolph 