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Posts Tagged ‘chosen’

Formative

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on March 3, 2026| 2 Comments »


 
 
I would sit in the circle,
gut flopping like a fish
while the fox walked around
to pat us each on the head.
Duck. Duck. Duck.
Bright fizz of adrenaline
frothing in the blood
as the hand came closer.
Duck. Duck.
Please pick me. Don’t pick me.
Half wanting to be chosen,
half wanting not,
because I was the child
who had to stew in the pot
for five more rounds
because I’d get caught.
Duck. Duck.
Not wanting to be chosen
’cause I knew I’d sit alone.
Oh, shame of the center.
Shame of being slow.
Please pick me. Don’t pick me.
Oh. I am not the goose.
Oh, longing to be chosen,
wanting the proof
that I could be a child
other children would choose.
 

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The Chosen

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on August 2, 2025| 3 Comments »


 
 
You hear how this one is dull, she said,
as she knocked on the melon.
I rapped the green skin and nodded.
Now, she said, try this one.
I knocked and heard the brightness.
Vibrant, she said. Vibrant, I agreed.
She picked it up and handed the melon
to me. This one, she said. Choose this one.
 
Tonight, I imagine some great hand
coming to knock on my chest, rapping
just above my heart, testing me
to see if I am one worth choosing.
I’m surprised by the prayer that arrives.
Choose us all, please, choose us all.

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What Was the Question?

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on March 11, 2014| 2 Comments »

in the sweets shop
standing in front of the shelves
unable to choose—
realizing that I am the one
who wants to be chosen

*

unable to see
the mountain at the end
of the clouded valley—
never once doubting
it is still there

*

choose me, choose me,
choose me, I say to the world,
but of course I mean
choose me
the way I want to be chosen

*

outside, of course,
preferably in the sun, far
away from all
other eyes, an inchworm takes
all day to measure one lily

*

all day asking
myself, what would be lighter,
and even lighter
than this, all day I land
more softly

*

who is the one
who thinks she wants to be chosen?
leaning into the
infinite whatever it is
that notices her wanting

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