TO ALL: Whatever your faith, I invite you to read this. You may follow a
different path, but it’s really all about living in love.
In Step With Jesus
(For Bob Gwynne and Monica Wahlberg, with love and thanks)
To be in step with Jesus…
Stop. Wait. Listen.
Allow Jesus to choose your stride.
It may be slower; it may take you
down by the riverside or
wash you in rainfall.
You may see yourself
offering a hand to one whom
you wouldn’t have touched
the week before.
To be in step with Jesus…
Stop. Wait. Listen.
Allow the Spirit inside.
Let your soul be enveloped
by the Divine Sofia, Wisdom.
You may see yourself
in sandals, sharing love,
feeding those in need, even
acting up in the
“Temples of Power.”
You will change.
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Yes, it’s my 666th post. No, this is not the first horse of the Apocalypse, nor do I believe in “the mark of the Beast,” and I’m not going there with any jokes, either (although 6/66 is when my friend Monica was born, so there you go, one happy coincidence, an early birthday present).
This poem was inspired and written entirely at Sunday morning’s praise and worship service, during which guest “sermonator” Rev. Bob Gwynne (an activist of many years; he and his jubilant wife, Jesse, are respected senior members of our church), gave an excellent sermon about being in step with Christ.
For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads’ Open Link Monday, and the Poetry Pantry at Poets United. Also, BIG ANNOUNCEMENT TOMORROW, SO STAY TUNED! (ribit croak gruggle) Peace to all, Amy
WILD CHILD
From Day One, I was
a wild child.
Well-schooled but wayward.
Never pleaded for parental pardon.
Worldly wise wisp
wrapped in ribbons,
wants to be unspooled,
twirled, awhirl with
winsome, wastrel wiles.
Wishes for what she wants;
wants more than she gets;
gets what’s coming to her,
all the while knowing
there’s way more in store.
Her wickedly wanton waylays
wend their way into herstory.
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Wrote this for the “Wild Woman” prompt at Ella’s Edge in the Imaginary Garden With Real Toads. Also posted at Poets United, in the Poetry Pantry, and for Sunday Scribblings… their prompt was “energy,” and if this doesn’t fill the bill, I’m in big trouble. ALSO, Poetic Bloomings is celebrating 100 posts, and they wanted a “celebration of self.” Oh, yeah, honey!!
NOTE: I was feeling pretty down until I read Ella’s prompt. I summoned my inner Sherry Blue Sky, Shay/Fireblossom, Lady Nimue, Jae Rose, and a few more … and before you know it, I was as Edgy as Ella! Thanks, you wonderful wild women, o ye of the Sisterhood of the Traveling Rants. (Don’t look now, but Gretchen Leary is catching up to us!)
Finally, about that photo. It was taken in Bermuda at the Princess Hotel, where I was artist-in-residence for two seasons. Didn’t know it yet, but I was newly pregnant with Riley when this was shot. My girlfriend Bev, from the cast of their Dreamgirls-type show, is with me. (I still have the skirt, for Halloween costumes. I’ll wear it as a head wrapping!) Peace, Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 