From: “EDWARD JEFFS”

 

My Lord

Perhaps I was you,

We met on the walks of ourselves,

You were a nice old man,

And I was another flowered being,

You were just God, and a lover,

And somehow we held hands

As we journeyed into the souls

Of others, you knew everything

And I who knew nothing,

Held your hand and became you,

And you became others.
For Barbra Potter Bleecker on her Ordination

1/17/98 Edward J. Jeffs

Mindful

Every day
I see or hear
something that more or less
Imbues me with delight,
that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.
It was what I was born for —
to look, to listen, to lose myself inside this soft world —
to instruct myself
over and over in joy,
and acclamation.
I am not talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant — but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, precious one, I say to myself, how can you help
but grow wise with such teachings as these —
the untrimmable light
of the world the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made out of loneliness?