To Me, You are Holy
Blessed be,
each of your wrinkles.
For it was wisdom you earned
and shared
that drove the canyons and carved those lines.
Blessed be,
your hair,
grey, white or gone.
For the sacrifice of time and patience
and love
changed them forever or drove them away.
Blessed be,
the tar stains
on your lips and teeth and fingers.
For they are the imprint of every cigarette you smoked
every two minutes
past when I should have been home.
Blessed be,
your arthritis.
It stands as testimony
to all the times you ran, jumped, tripped
to protect me.
You are a sacred person, indeed,
for you chose your path
to be my sanctuary.