March 9: Psalm 1 and Perfection

It is Ash Wednesday, and I'm here to make good on my promise to embrace the positive.  Here is my first Lenten psalm, written just an hour or so ago.  My disclaimer is that it hasn't been revised.  Much.  I'm not going to have time to polish and perfect these poems.  Then again, that's what Lent is all about:  trying to become a better follower of Christ.  It's not about being perfect.  It's about being better, day by day.

God knows, Saint Marty has a lot of room for improvement.

Psalm 1:  My Daughter's Tooth

I give thanks for my daughter's tooth,

Small as a kernel of unpoppped corn,

How it catches the window light, glows

As it did in school pictures, kindergarten,

First, second, third, fourth grades.

I give thanks for this fragment,

This reminder of when she would press

Her head against my chest, fall asleep,

My heart and her heart slowing,

Dark bringing us together, her need

To feel safe, my need to keep safe

Each breath she breathed, each hair

Twisted in her tight braids, each tooth

Pushing through her pink ridges of gum.

I give thanks for this relic, keep it holy,

Safe in a pill bottle.  Take it out.  Worry it

Against my palm, between my fingers.

Say a prayer for the ashes of the baby

She once was.  Sing a song for the smile

Of the woman she's becoming.

My daughter's tooth