Sacred Space

Buddha under the
cross,
rice grains, lotus, incense
balanced on a rack of hymnals.

The funeral is prepared
in the congregational church
for the man who taught
Tai chi,
and his students do their forms
in the aisles, the chancel,

quiet, graceful,
round movements,
gathering
air
with the arms of their loss.

Speaking for God,
Isaiah said –
my house shall be a house
of prayer
for all people.

Jesus of Nazareth and
Siddhartha Gautama,
agreed.

Psalm or mantra –
the wind of all our turning.

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8 Responses to Sacred Space

  1. P. J. Stokes says:

    Maren–

    Thank you for this. Deeply touching. The poem calls to mind an encounter I had in Vietnam with a beautiful, awe-inspiring 70-year-old woman. We talked of our faiths–she a Buddhist, I a Christian. Then she took my hand and said to me, “We are all one. Remember, we are all one.”

    May it be so.
    Penny

  2. Erice Fairberother says:

    thanks Maren – this is fantastic – the wind of all our turning is gong to stay with me

  3. Judy Brandon says:

    Maren, Thank you for this beautiful poem. I often think of your little church and give thanks that you have provided a welcoming place for the community from Indonesia.

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