Tuesday, October 25, 2011


I keep thinking about how and why and with what hands
people touch each other’s lives,
the violence of bone and blood and muscle
it takes to make a reaching.
How much of a gift it is
that any two persons’ straight lines toward doom
become for a time
a charmed circle.
Amazing the patterns people make
by crossing each other’s paths
like black cats on this dark-night planet, amazing
to say I love you,
O Lord
I am not worthy that you should
that anyone should
come under my roof, O Lord
but how glad.

                                       ~ Joanne McPortland

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