Discernment and wobbly knees
There are liminal spacescramped and soggylike old tomato sandwichesyou wouldn't give to next door's dog.There are spaces where I crouchand have to keep my head down.And spaceswhere God can dance,weak at the knees with love.
Indigenous
Dull winter blew open my soul.I heard the eucalypt speak in native tongueand felt her unconscious persuasion.I saw her arms raised in joyful surrenderwithout need for instruction on how to grow tall,how to flower or consummate love.
I observed she gathered her own, roots entwined,each tree bent and whispering to the cluster,welcoming the newcomer — a conifer,rigid and trimmed, lonely as a city.I saw the eucalypt commune with her desert-heart,and plead for space as an unruly convict or
a desperate refugee; loud and green,sure as the wind to speak from the grave.
Christ on the margins
He upturns the tableThey upturn the soapboxHe reads the raw undersideThey read the soapie sideHe speaks of love and vulnerabilityThey speak of law and certaintyHe is crucified__They are crassified.
Prophecy
Dominus vobiscum__The Lord be with youEt cum spiritu tuo__And with your spirit
Two blessingsone resurrectedone still in the tomb
We are not pre-Vatican
We think wholebody and soulin whom God dwells
We anoint you saying__And also with you
We are not parrots in a pew trembling__And with your spirit
unless we meanthat the body is deadin the body of Christ
Marlene Marburg is a spiritual director and PhD research student with the Melbourne College of Divinity. Her area of interest is the relationship between poetry and spiritual direction.