Adaptable, dependable, designed
explicitly to fill a threaded slot,
you serve, content to be yourself. You’re not
a bolt, but when some nut gets in a bind,
you’ll spiral in if qualified. Maligned
and snickered-at behind your back? So what?
Opinions turn you neither cold nor hot —
that’s not the way your character’s defined.
For whether long or short or fat or thin,
or backing out or boldly pressing through,
the key is in the willingness to spin
according to the job one’s called to do.
Humanity could learn a lesson in
the perseverance of a lowly screw.
2003 Mary Boren
View discussion on this poem.
Based on the teachings of A Course in Miracles
Behind each errant thought there hangs a thread
of continuity, a knowingness
that’s hidden by an unrelenting fear
of meaningless existence. Only in
suspended judgment can the truth emerge.
When ego is subjected to the light,
illusion evanesces. One by one,
each child of God, awakening, recalls
his rightful heritage of endless love,
for separation never has occurred.
Now, following the thread back to its source,
we see the world for what it is, a screen
projecting unreality, a blip.
The little willingness is all it takes
to conquer thought and matter, time and space.
Mary Boren, 2012
Public Domain Photo
You rise, and congregated ears abound
with expectation. Soon the air is crowned
in clarity as pure, celestial sound
anoints the sanctuary. Each one’s own
precisely chimes in turn, for one alone
cannot create the resonance of tone
that’s crucial to the chorus. Willing hearts
and waiting hands coordinate with starts
and stops. The whole is greater than its parts.
The veil between the realms in times like these
becomes translucent, borne on devotees
of equal worth and echoed harmonies.
May all God’s children stand prepared, like you,
to simply strike one glorious note on cue.