the wren
“What is it like to fly?”
I asked the wren.
“Fly?” she replied.
“What is that? I only know what it is to be a wren.”
And off she flew.
Shannon Johnston
“What is it like to fly?”
I asked the wren.
“Fly?” she replied.
“What is that? I only know what it is to be a wren.”
And off she flew.
Shannon Johnston
prayers said
in swift passing,
interrupted,
wordy or wordless,
given when the body is void of faith feelings
are still prayers.
2/22 Shannon Johnston
you have permission to cry
and laugh.
to ask your existential question
and re-watch a sitcom.
to start your greatest novel
and write a crappy poem-like this.
3/21 shannon johnston
I named all stillness ‘earie’
and she said “as you wish."
I wonder what the birds named the quiet,
they were still singing this morning.
Shannon Johnston
I ran from fear,
desperate.
And for all my speed
found it waiting at my destination.
I ran towards peace and found only
goodness and
faithful love
in pursuit.
Shannon Johnston
If I believe you delight in me,
unwavering trust becomes my guide.
For what could happen for my harm
when Infinite Love imagined me
into being?
Shannon Johnston
Allowed entry and denied a place to eat.
Tell me, Is a welcome that denies hunger a welcome?
She did not feast at a table of overflowing abundance
of yellow tangerines and mangoes
red berries and creamy cheese
of olives and wine and crusty bread
of color upon color
and grace upon grace.
Hungry she left.
Alone she wept.
And the Christ in her cries out to the Christ them-
‘My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?’
Shannon Johnston
Do not apologize for
Greying hair
For laughlines
For fading sight.
Do not apologize for
The unstable gait
For hands that shake
For feet that dance a little slower
For ears that hear less clear.
I forbid apology
For the years you wear with grace
For every line etching glory in your body
For the wisdom in your face
For the song that sings from the deepest megaphone within you
That shouts
I lived!
I Lived!
I LIVED!
You will not apologize for who you are
Fierce, Wonderful Woman
A hundred generations born in your womb
Fear calmer
Tear holder
Peace giver
Hope lover.
You do not fade.
You live both whole and scattered
At once here
At once everywhere
in a thousand lives you touched across this earth.
Do not apologize for
Being.
Do not apologize,
You
are
Exquisite.
shannon johnston
Starry Night
for S.
Like a Van Gogh, you turn my gaze to awe.
Tell me, does the Starry Night know who she is?
or does she
held tight to canvas
mistake each stroke and swirl as error?
Could you come stand where I am and see how
perfectly enough you are?
I promise you,
you would take your breath away.
~shannon johnston~
If I had to do it all over,
i’d still choose leaving.
except maybe
I’d have thrown you a party,
and showered you with flowers,
told you I still care deeply
instead of evaporating in the summer heat
like I had never been there at all.
but if I had thrown that party,
I think I would have have used up all
my courage to leave.
And so I learn, I am not yet capable of
regretless goodbyes.
She is lovely and bright
Spring greens
and Summer Yellows.
Can laughter or a smile carry the
weight of heavy things?
Tell me have you sat in the shade
of a shallow tree?
I think not, for that tree lay on a forest floor
felled by life’s storm.
Shannon Johnston
Anger came knocking for 87 days
clawing
pounding
screeching
“Ignore her and she’ll go away,” they said
“Let her in and she’ll ruin your home” they warned
“Eat more vegetables!” they scolded
“Just be happier than her noise,” they advised
“Pray louder” they decided
Day 88
I stormed to the door
to let her know
where she could go
But paused
(for a reason not like me)
breathed twice
Invited her in for tea.
She was not scary after all,
just so very
very
very
sad.
end
here and there
in the ordinary spaces
are small moments
holding all the sacred awe of
a Cathedral,
a mountain,
a sleeping infant.
you must not desecrate their holiness
with questions and explanations
no, just sit,
be in them
and let the stirring in your heart
become wordless gratitude to your Creator.
Shannon Johnston
When I rush after
and judge faster
When I believe I spin the
orbit of my world
Gift me the mercy of silence.
When I grasp to squeeze fame
from your name
Gift me the mercy of silence.
When I busy myself
to fix myself
And demand you speak when I say
Gift me the mercy of silence.
When I’ve grown weary of doing
And saying and praying
Of walking and talking
Of naming each thought
Of protecting and deflecting and collecting
Of reading and pretending
Of buying and selling
Of thinking and telling
Gift me the mercy of silence.
For in the silence I do not accomplish
In the silence I only breathe
In the silence tears remain unnamed
In the silence I find sabbath for my soul
In the silence I am
In the silence You are
Oh gift me the mercy of silence.
Shannon Johnston 12/17
I doubted that anything big or holy
could find space to live in me
until i grew quiet and still
and present to your smile
of affection
in a bouquet of dandelions.
eternity expanded inside me
and i clutched my chest
not sure how vast space existed there.
Shannon Johnston
if you are so certain
why do my questions disturb you
can i walk the path with you
in doubt
or is there an exit i must take
until i know as much as God.
(or damn close)
tell me the size of your grace.
Shannon Johnston
Be
If I were a cloud
I would be
a cloud
floating, dancing, loving,
unity.
I would not claim autonomy
I would surrender in ease
following winds path for me.
I would feel not shame in my
figure
swollen
grey
looming
nor cry
Superior!
When I came
light and airy
reclining on a summers breeze.
And when I found my life poured out in tears,
torrential or soft
I would be content
and surrender
to my call
to be a cloud.
I would be.
Shannon Johnston