Monday Morning Musing: A Lucky Sack of Stars

Oh, it's a new year, beloveds and I am trying to be grateful for it all. Bruce and I are in the midst of a time of really deep resting. I could probably linger here for a few more days, but I do get the sense that he's going a bit stir crazy. Maybe a walk would help. It's been gray and gloomy but not cold in these first days of 2023. Like I said, I'm trying to be grateful for it all.

Here's a poem that I find absolutely stunning because the poet turns to gratitude in the face of all of the oppression she's felt as a queer child of God. Thank you, Gabrielle Calvocoressi, for this:

At Last the New Arriving

Like the horn you played in Catholic school

the city will open its mouth and cry

our. Don't worry 'bout nothing. Don't mean

no thing. It will leave you stunned

as a fighter with his eyes swelled shut

who's told he won the whole damn purse.

It will feel better than any floor

that's risen up to meet you. It will rise

like Easter bread, golden and familiar

in your grandmother's hands. She'll come back,

heaven having been too far from home

to hold her. O it will be beautiful.

Every girl will ask you to dance and the boys

won't kill you for it. Shake your head.

Dance until your bones clatter. What a prize

you are. What a lucky sack of stars.