A Worshipping Way

Worship, she said, over thirty years ago.
She wanted to beat the cancer and live,
I want to remain in this world,
to worship, not just hang around,
to live in harmony with the wild world!

Her poet spirit inspires me still.
I want to know, what can it mean
to live in a worshipping way?

Reverence. For
water cascading on my skin in the shower,
for the first sip of coffee,
for tamales of raja and queso on my breakfast plate.
And awe, I think that worship must have awe.
For the Berylline hummingbird at my feeder,
for the plums that have dropped during the night
from the giant ciruela tree I love.

And I’m sure that worship
has to embrace astonishment.
My friend walked through her days that way,
amazed at every little thing,
like when a breeze
would gently lift the hair from her neck.

Devotion, oh certainly
worship calls for devotion.
Bringing to the simple things,
to acts of living like walking to the store,
a kind of consecration,
a full-on surrender
to the street and its happenings.

Though my friend’s been gone from earth so long,
her words, their ferocious questing and gleaning,
still hunt through forested chaos
for the beauty, and to pursue
the meanings of the details,
ever seeking, seeking.
And in her poems still live
reverence and awe,
astonishment and devotion.
I honor the life and spirit of Penny,
my friend of the worshipping way.

©Susa Silvermarie 2024

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