Two Beloved Poems
I touch my Beloved warily today.
It has been so long since I felt him.
I don’t know which one of us is to blame. I failed to sit; he/SHE failed to approach. What kind of god is this?
We both let things slide,
and wariness is uncomfortable for both of us, I imagine.
Behind sorrow lies anger.
Why didn’t you come for me, Beloved?
Why didn’t you wrap me in Michael’s red cape, Swing his sword at those who refused me?
Why leave me to my own devices When yours are so much better?
Following your plans makes us both feel good. On my own, I stumble repeatedly.