The Mask

A danger, named, is robbed of

The worst kind of fear: uncertainty.

Whether a giant or small monster,

Or child looms behind the mask

I can't know.

And when I am uncertain, I can't

Step forward this way or that, only

Hole up in my footprints waiting for

A message that may never have been mailed.

Each day the quizzes twist my brain,

Twist my thinking until nothing seems upright.

It's only when I remember that God is never uncertain,

Never unknowing, never unloving,

That I condense into one whole trusting self, and

Move onward, unafraid.

Goodbye

To the tiny red-veined leaves, to the sparkling wet grasses

I say goodbye

To this intersection, to the hole in the parking space

I say goodbye

To the cluttered faces of houses of people I don't know

I say goodbye

As I enter the door, to the grimy doorknob

I say goodbye

And to every floor tile, the white, the gray, even the chipped ones

I say goodbye

And to my mother, with eyes like mine, and mouth set to acceptance

I say goodbye

And to my father, my soul's image, through any other words

I say goodbye

And as I say goodbye, I know that the barest molecules of me will remain behind, still clinging to this life.

Honey

I found a well of honey

Far from the common ground;

Dipping down into its depth,

I discovered a magnificent sweetness.

Surprised, I thought I must be mistaken,

But each time I drew it up, it remained

Sugared like the taste of lovers' lips.

What good fortune to discover such a prize!

No bitter drops tainted my nectar.

Determined to keep it for myself,

I sold all I had to buy this well.