Take my hand. First, tie your shoelaces.
Inhale all that can be. Fill your capacious lungs
with the breath of every promise. Each is yours.
Geraniums wild in flamenco ruffle, teased into
some mysterious preen,
pastel chins high, arrogantly Andalusian,
mesmerized by the collective hum of
my workaholic bees,
hysterical planters of the sun. They are mine
and dance for me.
In all the spaces that are empty, know
that it is you who stand inchoate.
You are my filler of spaces.
About Robert Phelps
Robert Phelps is a 72-year-old Franciscan priest. He's been writing poetry for 30 years. He has spent almost 40 years as a missionary priest to the Territory of Guam and the state of Hawaii. Currently, he's a parish priest on the southern shore of another island, Long Island, New York.
He's had poetry published in several journals, both in the U.S. and in Britain, such as The Evansville Review, Nassau Review, Penwood Review, Cairn, Ruah, The Guild, A New Song, Falling Star, Bound, Concrete Wolf, Jubilation, and from the U.K., Jones AV. He has also had some great opportunities to study under some really good poets, such as Susan Schultz at the University of Hawaii.
Reading poetry and writing provides him with right-brain experiences that are a welcome counterpoint to his pastoral life and work.
One Comment
“Inhale all that can be.” Simply beautiful!