Being Sanctuary
Yesterday we opened ourselves up
to Sanctuary.

We cleaned out the dirty apartment
in the center of our breast
scrubbed the bathroom floor
in the area of our knees
lit candles, planted flowers
hung up the “Welcome” sign
where our downturned mouths used to be.

And they came on the run
fleeing for succor and relief
pilgrims and escape artists, rich and poor
friends and enemies, those we didn’t know
and those we know too well. . . .
Our bodies filled up with the cargo of all our living.
Minds overflowed with rice and potatoes.
Drying laundry, sorting silverware, dust cloths
        and children’s games flowed through our blood.

We have to search harder
oh Mother Planet
we have to find ourselves again
and again.
We have to open ourselves wide
unhinge the rusty jaws
for Sanctuary.