Her face moved above me as I lay me down
breathing over me, tucking me in,
speaking words without meaning
eyes and smile whose meaning I knew.
I heard sounds – the clatter of dishes,
the slam of the storm door, stomping boots,
snow blowing in a rush from behind.
Still, I was held fast by her face hovering above me
feeling her kiss on my cheek.

As I try to remember how or why I am here
her quiet presence rises to my surface
as it always has
with a question
that I cannot answer.

She carried me then let me go into this wonderland of life –
the green sunlit vistas
dark streets and forsaken hallways
dubious beginnings, sad farewells.
My own life, unremarkable, but with words,
lading me, with their own meanings
through unfinished stories, half-hearted sentences,
tangled phrases, broken constructions
to this place.

The words still come and I put them here
but they bring me no closer to understanding.
They carry me to the deep down dark womb
that bore all from beyond time
called holy, mystery, sacred –
worthy of contemplation, actions of praise
expressions of catastrophic woe, loneliness unspoken,
evocations of the curve of space or of a human face.

She was my beginning but could not be my end
leaving me with the face of life,
a glorious beauty, searing tragedy,
still point in the world’s revolutions.

Faith remains from times when she looked down at me,
a heavenly being filled with grace,
and said a word in her own voice of her mother and father
of all who came before, who lived their lives and died
wondering themselves, without answers,
even as the sun shone over the fertile fields
and the rain fell into the dark and dense forests.

Alleluia.

Portland, Oregon – March 16, 2016