Quiet Words
Hush love,
rock rockabye,
let the night come;
Stars need the darkness
to kiss the moon;
Moon needs midnight
to spin its shine;
Shine needs hearts
to carry it on,
carry it out
into a world afraid
of shadows.
Rockabye rock,
Hush love, hush,
feel the dreams
come in a rush
of silken colors
oceans deep;
go my baby
into the arms of sleep.
Lullaby honey,
nestle down
in the sweet strong arms;
sweet in the stillness,
soft in the dark,
breathe in the shine
of the moon and
the Maker
swinging you
swinging you
rocking you, rock.
loving you, hush,
into quiet word
sleep.
Multicolored Depths of a Love
Mine are the heavens and mine is the earth1-
all that is seen and unseen.
Mine the Word that darkness
shall never overcome,
And the angels, and the Mother of God2, Mystical Rose,
who prays for us now and at the hour of our death.
The elephant, eagle, platypus, and daffodil—mine.
Mine the Wisdom who danced first with God.
Poets, taletellers, the Story itself,
all for me.
Mine the wind who brushes her hair
while wending through the pines,
and bottles of ink celestial, stirring
to shower stardusted syllables
on unsuspecting fallow fields.
The mockingbird weaving new life
into borrowed measure and verse—mine.
And mine the humid hint of freshness
borne in the morning fog.
Mine are the sonnets, the rain, and the symphonies—
mine is the moonrise, the sunset, the waltz.
Eclipses, atoms, tempests, and flame—
mine.
The planets, the fossils, the rivers, and tides,
the questions, the glory, the unknown mysterious—
mine and all for me.
And I am all for them- because I have in me
the expanse of the universe and in the expanse of the universe-
which includes the perfection of a plum-
is the form, and substance,
and beauty of God.
And I am all for them- because I have been given
breath and insight, hope, and wonder, by God
who burned in a bush that was not consumed
so to be seen by one
attentive enough to notice.
And I am all for them and they are all for me
because God is all for them
and God is all for me and so
We each reflect in the ocean of our actions and being
our slow but hopefully certain, transformation
into that which we already are.
Into the multicolored depths of a love
that is in its essence
marvelously beyond our capacity to contain.
Singing on Home (Taize, Oakpark)
When the sound of singing
became the air for breathing,
walls moved aside.
Acoustics unveiled
wide space open
for mountains to rise;
mountains that called
yes you may; told me
oh never been a view
so fine, my sister.
Walk on up,
walk on over,
let the music
move you through
to the place of rivers
full flowing
with love
between banks of wind
humming amen,
amen amen.
Kimberly M. King rscj
Province of the United States
[1] John of the Cross, The Sayings of Light and Love, verse 27
