Sunday, September 06, 2015

At the Temple


At the Temple

I did not pray for you at the temple today
Maybe because I made it all about me
Making peace with the scope of the universe
Contemplating my insignificance within it

I'm vacationing in paradise when I heard it
Today's date, the month and day of your birth
The pain of your absence tucked away
Vanishing, along with the sound of your voice

I did not pray for you at the temple today
Maybe because I'm a lousy, forgetful son
Or maybe, the stillness was by your design
As your voice reverbed through the sacred bell

I took off my shoes to show respect
Waited patiently in silence for others before me
I burned my finger lighting the incense
Not badly, but enough to pay attention

Maybe it was you reaching out to admonish me
It could've been your wry sense of humor saying chill
Perhaps the Infinite laughed at my mindfulness
I probably should've been more careful with the flame

I placed the incense in the ashes,
Imperfectly among neat rows
But I did not pray for you today
While contemplating my smallness

For Terri Ann Dawson, my mom, who would've been 61 on September 6.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful poem. This word are so tender as for me and calming. I like the way you wrote that.