SMALL MINISTRIES

 In the red and white church of

my bones I carry the matrix of

small ministries:

I sing to all kinds of babies,

curving my air into the

tiny spoons of their ears;

I pick up so carefully

each eyeless jewel of an

earthworm caught on cement

and return it to the sentient soil;

I speak greenly like daylight to

plants; I always try to comfort a

hurting animal, even invertebrates.

And I look back with staggering love

at the silent lost child I was

and tell her she is so precious.

 

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2024

little gray kitten

i know how the lost hurt kitten of your heart feels.

you have carried her softness so carefully, but she broke out

of a secret flaw inside, a fault line that

fractured your tiny kitten-bones to needles –

how they bent and wept!

 

come to me, and my womanhood

will gather in and bless what you cannot

seek or speak.

 

come, i will be a sustaining flower

for the fainting bee of your lost hopes.

i won’t ask why; i’ll simply do what must be done,

gather you into the medicine of my arms,

stitch the jaws of your injury closed, kiss your cold paws,

stroke that gray kitten back into her wholeness

bones and all.

 

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2022

 

Circle of Caring

We have drawn a warm circle

of caring in close

and placed you in the center.

We have all worn those troubles.

They are so heavy.

Here, hand me some before they

eclipse your soul.

Troubles loom wild and far.

But Dear Heart, you are not alone.

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2019