Rooted in my kitchen chair, your eyes blue flashing fire, leaping from soul, flare where burn flames hottest. You tell your wild stories exclaiming joy,

One God with Three Faces: Yauh, Jesu,Great Spirit; hear my prayer for my daughter, whom you have given me. I pray that she may be

I’m a one-breasted woman,           I’m Christ’s Amazon, I’m a one-breasted woman,           I’m ready to fight.

The woman in the crowd Expressed, In loud assertiveness, A woman’s honor came From womb and breast. But Jesus didn’t think That barren females Had

I The gate, recalcitrant, begins to yield As I push away the rusted chain And the brambles that sting my skin. I know this place. I, a woman,

Learning like a woman drawing from a well full of words finally drawn by the Word the difference between white-washed sepulchers and an empty tomb—

Make me like Mary — Faithful Believer in miracles, in the impossible. Make me like Mary — Humble Implant new Life in me by your

Tell her, Jesus — Tell her to get a move on. She’s sitting so indifferently — Oblivious to all the Woman’s work That needs completing.

Won’t you walk in the Garden with me, And see me as Christ would see? With me loving you and you loving me, Won’t you