Nancy J. Nowak

Stones in the Wall 

Run your hand over a stone: 

this one is rough on the surface, 

and cold. 

This one has sharp edges. 

I can be rough at times, and cold, 

with sharp edges, too. 

But the stones in this wall 

work together, 

holding each other up, 

be they rough or smooth, 

sharp or rounded, 

making something beautiful, 

holding each other up, 

with all their individual shapes and colors 

just like people could do 

if we wanted to. 

Maple Tree 

Summer tree, summer tree, 

I would climb you if I could 

hug you if I would 

feel your rough bark 

against my face 

and your firm woody embrace 

Summer tree, summer tree, 

you reach your arms so high, 

open, with praise, where hawks fly 

Summer, tree, summer tree, 

in my yard you grew. 

Teach me, oh teach me, 

to pray like you do. 

My Zentangle Life 

My life is so jumbled and confused, 

complexity of parts 

Some people seem to know 

just what their life’s about 

pursuing it with passion and drive and confidence 

I am so divided and fragmented: 

this part for daily chores 

this part for time in prayer 

this part for poetry, creative pursuits – 

do they all fit together 

to make a Whole? 

Will the Master builder 

make sense of it all, I wonder, 

show me my own life’s beauty 

someday?