Elevation
Elevated Dining
What could be more divine
than a stainless-steel stock pot
of perfectly cooked beans?
Glass jars line the pantry shelves like
pebble collections, small at the start-
pinto, kidney, black eyed peas,
a symphony of simmering simplicity
after a soak, cloudy water thickens
their skin, plump as pillows resting
in the hollow of my spoon,
bedfellows of stewed tomatoes
and June-picked okra. I elevate
my feet to the top of the table,
settling in for the night as the bowl
warms my belly inside and out.
I AM ready
to go higher
I put the
blanket
tied around
my neck
running hands in front
I'm flying
seeing others
from a special place
I am able
to do more good
saving the world
one person
at a time
I enjoy
the wind through my hair
this view
of life
the belief
I'm a
super hero
nothing can
hurt me
and
I can
Help
anyone
everyone.
Lord,
Let me
reach
the
elevation
of a
child
again.
In flying my drone in sport mode
In rising from sleep
In lifting water to my lips
In breathing with each breath in
In thinking how beautiful and wonderful this life is
In filming focus to focus
In being alone
In loving and being loved
I buried myself.
I thought I was planting myself,
like a seed.
That I would wake up one day,
and the water of life
would transform me
into a beautiful blossom.
But I was drowning.
So I dug myself out.
I'm elevating myself now,
by honoring my needs
and respecting my limits.
I am climbing toward the sun.
I spend my days
elevating many things-
that pair of scissors
forgotten from an evening project
knife left too close
to the counter edge
bin of markers
(a bit too slow there)
box of crackers
half gone suddenly
hot tea
held at face-level
outstretched arms and warm little bodies
balancing on hips, hanging off necks.
heavy lifting. And
most days
for even a minute
my heart is lifted too.
Elevate, commiserate, constipate, eradicate, congratulate, instigate to elevate the real.
trumpet fanfares blasting,
with thunderous musical applause,
and all God's children shout
AMEN!!!!AMEN!!!!AMEN!!!!
The glorious glory in the act.
but it is quiet now
and my arms are tired.
elevators can go down too, right?
The numbers tick upward
The motion bobs my body
We strangers in a box,
keeping our feet and not talking
in this little carpeted swaying room
I think of Rush
Singing “Everybody’s got to elevate from the norm”
But what is normal
about an elevator?
Start at the bottom...
Up
Others
Lift
We
When
Everyone
Elevates
This
When the view from the ground is bleak—
The blood-soaked streets too much to bear
Remember to look up
Lift your gaze to the sky, a meditation
The cherry blossom in full bloom
And higher still, cerulean blue
How ache and wonder
Beauty and burden
Elevation and oppression
Share the same world—
Is (im)possible to ponder
But in this moment know this:
Splendor will save us still,
If only our eyes stay wide
with love that cannot be taken
So keep your feet planted
Raise your face to the light:
Breathe it all in.
This is my favorite word and poem that we have done so far. Thanks, Kaitlin! "a support group to overcome the misogynistic, patriarchal, militaristic God we grew to know and fear as kids and into adulthood."
Elevate
I’m a few years out now
But still lines of worship music
Are buried in my mind and are unlocked by specific words
“Elevate” brought:
“Jesus, you be lifted higher….”
“I lift up my hands, standing unashamed….”
That one sermon where
We had to hold up the Pastor’s arms
Because to lead a congregation is tiring
There was a guy in the Bible that
As long as he lifted his hands, his side of the war won
(I don’t remember who that is)
I now no longer lift of the name of Jesus
There is no “Name above all names” for me anymore
But I want to “Rise Up”
Like the Andra Day song
Angel point at sunrise #NorthRim
(which took my breath away)
-
The top of the rock in my elementary school playground
(enormous at the time)
Looking down on the clouds from a plane
(cumulus, cirrus, and other Latin friends)
The edge of the canyon where we exchanged rings
(almost thirty years ago)
Held in the branches of the tree I talked
(that my parents cut down)
The deck of the balcony where I write
(surrounded by gratitude)
I often wonder how different
the world would be
if we elevated our
original goodness
So beautiful Kaitlin!
Elevated Dining
What could be more divine
than a stainless-steel stock pot
of perfectly cooked beans?
Glass jars line the pantry shelves like
pebble collections, small at the start-
pinto, kidney, black eyed peas,
a symphony of simmering simplicity
after a soak, cloudy water thickens
their skin, plump as pillows resting
in the hollow of my spoon,
bedfellows of stewed tomatoes
and June-picked okra. I elevate
my feet to the top of the table,
settling in for the night as the bowl
warms my belly inside and out.
Elevation
I AM ready
to go higher
I put the
blanket
tied around
my neck
running hands in front
I'm flying
seeing others
from a special place
I am able
to do more good
saving the world
one person
at a time
I enjoy
the wind through my hair
this view
of life
the belief
I'm a
super hero
nothing can
hurt me
and
I can
Help
anyone
and
everyone.
Lord,
Let me
reach
the
elevation
of a
child
again.
Elevation
In flying my drone in sport mode
Elevation
In rising from sleep
Elevation
In lifting water to my lips
Elevation
In breathing with each breath in
Elevation
In thinking how beautiful and wonderful this life is
Elevation
In filming focus to focus
Elevation
In being alone
Elevation
In loving and being loved
I buried myself.
I thought I was planting myself,
like a seed.
That I would wake up one day,
and the water of life
would transform me
into a beautiful blossom.
But I was drowning.
So I dug myself out.
I'm elevating myself now,
by honoring my needs
and respecting my limits.
I am climbing toward the sun.
I spend my days
elevating many things-
that pair of scissors
forgotten from an evening project
knife left too close
to the counter edge
bin of markers
(a bit too slow there)
box of crackers
half gone suddenly
hot tea
held at face-level
outstretched arms and warm little bodies
balancing on hips, hanging off necks.
I spend my days
heavy lifting. And
most days
for even a minute
my heart is lifted too.
Elevate, commiserate, constipate, eradicate, congratulate, instigate to elevate the real.
trumpet fanfares blasting,
with thunderous musical applause,
and all God's children shout
AMEN!!!!AMEN!!!!AMEN!!!!
The glorious glory in the act.
but it is quiet now
and my arms are tired.
elevators can go down too, right?
The numbers tick upward
The motion bobs my body
We strangers in a box,
keeping our feet and not talking
in this little carpeted swaying room
I think of Rush
Singing “Everybody’s got to elevate from the norm”
But what is normal
about an elevator?
Start at the bottom...
Up
Others
Lift
We
When
Everyone
Elevates
This
When the view from the ground is bleak—
The blood-soaked streets too much to bear
Remember to look up
Lift your gaze to the sky, a meditation
The cherry blossom in full bloom
And higher still, cerulean blue
How ache and wonder
Beauty and burden
Elevation and oppression
Share the same world—
Is (im)possible to ponder
But in this moment know this:
Splendor will save us still,
If only our eyes stay wide
with love that cannot be taken
So keep your feet planted
Raise your face to the light:
Breathe it all in.
This is my favorite word and poem that we have done so far. Thanks, Kaitlin! "a support group to overcome the misogynistic, patriarchal, militaristic God we grew to know and fear as kids and into adulthood."
Elevate
I’m a few years out now
But still lines of worship music
Are buried in my mind and are unlocked by specific words
“Elevate” brought:
“Jesus, you be lifted higher….”
and
“I lift up my hands, standing unashamed….”
and
That one sermon where
We had to hold up the Pastor’s arms
Because to lead a congregation is tiring
There was a guy in the Bible that
As long as he lifted his hands, his side of the war won
(I don’t remember who that is)
I now no longer lift of the name of Jesus
There is no “Name above all names” for me anymore
But I want to “Rise Up”
Like the Andra Day song
Angel point at sunrise #NorthRim
(which took my breath away)
-
The top of the rock in my elementary school playground
(enormous at the time)
-
Looking down on the clouds from a plane
(cumulus, cirrus, and other Latin friends)
-
The edge of the canyon where we exchanged rings
(almost thirty years ago)
-
Held in the branches of the tree I talked
(that my parents cut down)
-
The deck of the balcony where I write
(surrounded by gratitude)
I often wonder how different
the world would be
if we elevated our
original goodness
So beautiful Kaitlin!