itinerant intimacies

(written on the feast of st. teresa of avila,
doctor of the Church)

the flesh locked in doing
activistic pursuing happiness
in hurried happenstance
so pure so practical the frame
bold of the world in the world
wide wooing
soul flesh solidity
solidarity made maimed. 

then again, then and again…
the head locked in thinking
the fear of trembling in
someone else’s name

the hemlock of heart felt
the hemmed heart men stained
in veins red with reasons
the heart read in vain
ahead of the reason
a head damp with strains,
overcast losses and gains
of numbers and knowledge
of numbed sins still forged
in someone else’s name
taken and gave as if the grave
were not grave,
as if secure and saved.

so strained.
powerless and plain.

the hung Son oh sacred
the hunger of slain
i thirst for your taking
i take for your pain
had made powerful,
full,
your name.

in the name of the lacking
in the name of the same
ones once wonderful
now wanderlust game

given all goodness
unearned unchanged,
living the flame
of Love
yes ethereal otherworldly above
yet incarnate indivisible dove.