The Wake Divinity New Student Orientation Logo.
Like the Birds
I.
I like the birds—
they don’t give a damn
about maps and roads and grids.
I like the birds—
they fling forth
into openness.
But I am swallowed by that much sky
and by mountain lakes and outer space—
by air on air and wet on wet
and space on space on space.
II.
I, like the birds,
don’t give a damn
about maps and roads and grids.
I, like the swallows,
fling forth into openness—
in air on air
in sky on sky
in space
on space
on space.
{mj bolton, April 2012}
Sightseeing
For Amy and Brandon
I have a friend whose husband dreamt
that Jesus was his tour guide—
visions of a wind-swept prophet
steering a skiff across the Sea of Galilee,
reminding the Anglos aboard to apply sunscreen.
“This is where I walked,
this is where I calmed,
this is where we pulled in all the fish.”
Visions of a backward-walking teacher
guiding them around the rocks,
sweeping out his hand to direct their gaze.
“This is where I spoke
This is where I stood,
this is where we put the baskets of bread.”
Underneath our laughter,
we envy the sleeper—
in following
in listening
in dreaming.
{mj bolton May 2012}
flyer for a Taize chapel service.
“….spirit of loving kindness confirm your heart and keep it; confirm your heart and keep it” repeat times 12.
Glances of Green.
A collection of haiku poems inspired experiences at Green Street UMC last summer.
The walk from Walnut
to Green Street is up a hill,
but back is downhill.
Sunday morning sun
makes me squint and shield my face.
My eyes will adjust.
This road is as long
as the walk between the pew
and the alter rail.
We kneel by the rail
and hold out our open hands
shoulder to shoulder.
Green Street sits with me,
like friends in a waiting room
expecting mending.
Settle in this space—
the scuffs, the dust, the fragments,
and the cracks of light.
Coins clink in a can—
a sum greater than its parts
being collected.
Napping after church
leaves the love percolating
and the peace steeping.
Passing through the park,
grass sticks to summer sandals;
green grasps at my feet.
-mjb
