Space: The Final Frontier

marci madary

Lately I have noticed a general lack

              of space in my life.

I write on a pile of paper

              on the corner of my desk:

The least bumpy surface in a disaster zone

of projects -

some mostly complete, some just starting, some forgotten.

I clip along during my calendared days

              from task to event, from rise to exhaustion

              with no margin for error or interruption.

My head is filled with long lists that need accomplishing

              and sticky situations that need tending.

There is no space for dreams and poetry.

Even my dog hogs the bed,

              pushing me to the edge.

Each tomorrow comes wrapped

in this snarl I have spun.

In his book, poet John O’Donohue invites the reader

              to Bless the Space Between Us because that is where God resides.

It is in that space we find rest. 

These lofty thoughts,

              leave me vexed:

If God’s breath lives in the space between,

              how do I catch mine?