Papa

This praying,

it turns on a papa's knees, 

veiling my life in its warmth.

His fingers

entwined with mine - 

wrapped over and under - 

gnarling wisteria gathered 

together.

This man,

he taught me the words 

to God, to His Mother.

He has taught me to bloom 

from the belly - loudly - 

and to be heard 

from here 

in my prayers.

This blooming,

it has worked its way 

into me and has opened 

my heart to all of this: to this 

place a men's prayers, 

to this place of angel's words, 

to this place of candle lit silence.

All that this heart has become 

is entwined in the wisteria 

of his strong hands.

10 February 1996