Poems Before First Confession

Lavender and Cedarwood

"Snow madness,"
my friend the poet deems,

could be the reason for
the "weird dreams" several of us

had had on Tuesday. Between
four and eight inches of

wintry mix are predicted to
fall later today. I cried tears

of contrition but know better than
to blame weather

for a life played back before me.
Each of us must search her

own soul, forgive others,
to pave a road that leads to

God's mercy. The priest who
wrote, Forgiveness: A Catholic

Approach, the book I read last
night, encouraged me to ponder

but did not usurp that which is
mine. From midnight?s cleansing

to dawn's puffy red eyes, a night
of reflection, forgiveness, dreams: 

lavender and cedarwood make me
strong and clean: ancient essential oils

calm stress through the ages.

**

Like Rosemary, After the Rain

When the Spirit
nudged me
and called me
a “drama queen,”

I paused to remember
the simple joy
of water droplets,
clinging to
a rosemary bush,

how brightly it shines
in rising sun,
when summer’s dust
is washed away
by water from
a cumulous cloud,

and how confession
will renew me—
like rosemary
after the rain.

**

Before the Confessional, Hyssop and Pine

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
My imagination was

the site of temptation—
the place where I strayed,

as thought life lead body to sin.
I had allowed myself to forget

that sin often lurks in seclusion,
where shadowed blackberries seem

deeper and sweeter, but aren’t.
I pretended this was excusable,

couched it in fiction. But now I am
preparing for my first confession.

I bring you a plea, Father,
not a list, for this is about truth.

I cry out for Your mercy.
Purge me with hyssop, …

Convert me anew. Ground me
like the cleanliness of pine.