She always takes the high ground
wherever she can find it.
And when.
Lucy atop the lion’s head
or the bird feeder or
the strawberry pot.
Sometimes it is so hard
for wide duck feet to
find purchase on high ground.
Orange skin smooth
as summer sunrise
curled tight and holding on.
She knows things from
spending so much
time on high.
Really, she does.
Sometimes she says
God’s hand is a paw
Her eye is
this small, cool white stone.
Sometimes the Shekinah
speaks in a
boisterous quack.
You must listen hard to hear it.
With ears in the center of your chest.
And spend a lot of time with your
Head in the clouds.
Are you brave enough to do just that?
This is so moving, Susan. Thank you for bringing the word Shekinah into my heart – a poem all by itself!
Yes, Chris. Shekinah is so dear to me, and so powerful in my life.