We are all
infinitesimal stitches
knit into the shawl of God
Her needles piece
the mystery of the Universe…
When I was in first grade, I had eye surgery. The muscles that kept my eyes synchronized and focused were, in a word, bad. They needed to be manually shortened in order to be tight enough to work. The ophthalmologist had delivered the news very gently, holding my confused mother’s hand to comfort her…
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Filipina women
Line up at mansions
At the doors they kneel
Raising their hands
Towards God
Palms cupped to catch
The gold white men bleed…
Breathe in, breathe out.
Practice wuji, let go.
The instructor moves,
I grasp the sparrow’s tail.
Roots shifting slowly…
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