The Spiritual Practice of Eating Our Words
A little scandal
by Marge Piercy in CIRCLES ON THE WATER
The eyes of others
measure and condemn.
The eyes of others are watches
ticking no.
My friend hates you.
Between you I turn and turn
holding my arm as if it were
broken.
The air is iron shavings
polarized.
Faces blink on and off.
Words are heavy.
I carry them back and forth in
my skirt.
They pile up in front of the
chairs.
Words are bricks that seal the
doors and windows.
Words are shutters on the eyes
and lead gloves on the hands.
The air is a solid block.
We cannot move.
Silence
by Rita H. Kowats
I hear my rapid thought-fire
Ricochet off your heart,
Creating a wall of words to
Keep me safe.
Wait.
Wait for the space
Between the thoughts
Between the words.
Wait.
God lives
In the Space Between.
Spirituality Without Borders: Reflections on Spiritual Practice 
I’m sorry for your turmoil today. But you wrote it well. Did it help?
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It’s good to hear from you, Jane!. I am fine after a walk along the pomenaude on Puget Sound. I hope you are enjoying your summer.
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Tremendously, esp. The anticipation of Son, Beloved and Child coming for most of August from France.
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Wonderful! I will send prayers to rich blessing of the visit.
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Rita, “The space between” is a wise place to wait. Your words spoke a reminder to me to wait in those spaces and hold my tongue so I can be a blessing and be blessed. Nicely done.
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Thank you, Wendy. It’s good to touch base.
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