• saints of diminished capacity

    by  • July 6, 2009 • Uncategorized • 4 Comments

    I only saw the words written,
    requiring me to infer tone;
    to assume either compassion
    or conceit; to decide if the poet
    mimed quotation marks when
    he said, “diminished capacity,” —
    or saints, for that matter —
    if he even said the words out loud.

    Either way, the phrase is
    fragrant with failure, infused
    with what might have been,
    what came and went,
    what once was lost . . .
    and now is found faltering,
    struggling, stumbling,
    still hoping, as saints do,
    failure is not the final word.

    Forgiveness flows best from
    brokenness; the capacity for
    love is not diminished by
    backs bowed by pain, or
    hearts heavy with grief.
    Write this down: the substance
    of things hoped for fuels
    those who walk wounded:
    we are not lost; we are loved.



    Blogging since December 2005


    4 Responses to saints of diminished capacity

    1. July 7, 2009 at 1:45 am

      I identify with your poem. Thanks for sharing yourself.

    2. John
      July 7, 2009 at 4:36 pm

      really, really loved!

    3. Joy Jordan-Lake
      July 7, 2009 at 6:26 pm

      This is really powerful. The last verse in particular about knocked me over. And I needed to hear that word today. Thank you.

    4. July 11, 2009 at 6:56 am

      Joy just stated, word for word, what I came here to say. You do not even know how you have helped me this day. Thank you.

      Unilove aka Lisa

      P.S. I quoted that last paragraph in a blog post of mine with attribution. I truly hope that is okay.

    Leave a Reply