Christmas 2008

Christmas Eve, 2008 –

I watch Desmond Tutu preaching,

on tape

with a glass of Shiraz in my hand,

he talks about sainthood and love.

Christmas Night-

in my dreams

I belong to no nation or race

defined only by your love

– not Montague, but you- gender free

(how silly of me?)

I awake the day after

Israel bombed Gaza strip.

There is a logic beyond it. I believe

Reason says that attack is the best defense.

How do you justify then the murder of innocent children?

The argument climbs as a rusted church steeple

rotten by time, tears and passions

my faith has fallen:

(how ugly are You in the shattered mirror)

I realize : there is no escape

but to trust Desmond Tutu and say:

I believe!

There is more good in you than there's evil

and God rubs his hands looking down, pleased

"This is my creation"

a draft that matches the prompt on Sunday Scribblings: "I believe"

intermezzo- coffee poem

Physics lesson

Morning coffee.
Made in the old espresso gadget from Ikea
as it splatters liquid over the flame,
coffee smell over gas smell.

-what an unusual gadget-I think-
filters coffee from the bottom to the top.
Eureka! Archimedes!
The law of communicating vessels
one of the few I understood other than
Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle
for I am myself an infinitesimal particle
in space
unable to realize my momentum

events and people knocking me at the speed of light.