"Why not become all fire?"

A young monk approached Father Anthony: "I have fasted and prayed and
studied, as you have taught me. What else should I do?" And Father
Anthony replied, "Why don't you become all fire?"

The world was never enough,
though I loved it, and loving
learned to long for more, for
the one from whom it comes, for leaves
and sap running through my veins,
the breeze wrapped around me
and green, always green, the solid
history of rocks beneath my soles,
their long reach linking to magma
and the first infant stars
and all they exploded from.

The adults on the subway
scared me, the empty eyes
barely edging past the newspaper,
the stolid balance against
the sway. I wanted to be the sway,
the slam and catch, the shriek
of train on turning
in blue sparks, or the frozen
splendor of a comet burning
through the fabric of
all that is.

COPYRIGHT 2007 Commonweal Foundation
COPYRIGHT 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning