Monthly Archives: July 2026

God You’re Hard to Buy For 

God you’re hard to buy for, love,
with your deep pockets; that massive vault 
I’ve never seen the whole of; and the fact
that you’re impossible to surprise.

You have so much already and it’s just 
not right to give you a scrap less
than top-shelf perfection
but anyway, what DO you give someone
who needs nothing? Truly,
I appreciate you, and it’s not like I don’t see 
the occasions coming every year – 
the day we met; the day I realised you had 
adored me for some time; the anniversaries of 
that time you saved my skin, and when it all started,
or just something because you’re on my mind.

And you do enjoy gifts
given in clear-eyed love, but therein lies
the hitch: this wilted, plaquey heart
that ogles, kneads, gnaws and beats
itself in offset rhythm, forgetful of 
your vows. I do remember
times I’ve scraped together some
resentful token, mad at you again because
of my disease and arrhythmia.
You were nice about it; said you saw how it
had cost me, but it wasn’t what you wanted. 
Times I’ve thrown you stone-toothed,
headached ritual for weeks (or years) instead;
but the gift you want is not a me that’s pressed
into a starchy Sunday best, grumbling and stiff 
in the designated spot, but instead 
the me that rests between your shoulders.

Is it better, in those lead-browed times,
to give you a bad gift? To shove someone else’s
words into a sterile envelope? To face up
to having nothing to give? Or to the fact that
my shiniest, weightiest offerings were
bought with your own means in the first place?
My love, how do you stay?

Lee Fraser is from Aotearoa New Zealand and uses poetry for ogling life’s details, emotional archaeology, and comic relief. Her full-time occupations have included field linguist and parent. She has been published in Cordite, Ink Sweat & Tears, Meniscus, Micro Madness, ONE ART, NZ Poetry Society anthologies, Poetry Aotearoa Yearbook, Thimble and elsewhere. Some of her work is at leefraserpoetry.com

I Live my Life in Widening Circles of Compassion
inspired by Rilke

I live my life in widening circles of compassion
spilling over the world like Kwan Yin’s tears—
dewdrops on the soft petals of heartache
adhering with tender intimacy before falling.
I may not fulfill this destiny,
but that will be my attempt.

I cry with the Earth, and the Four Noble Truths*.
I’ve been praying for millennia—
in temples, mosques, synagogues
open spaces inside the hearts
of the meek and menacing.

And I still don’t know if I am
the stone creating the ripples,
the lake receiving them
or the outer banks embracing
the widening rings with care.

*Four Noble Truths – Foundational principles in Buddhism to understand suffering and freedom from suffering.

Kaveri Patel practices family medicine in northern California. She yearns to mirror wholeness in other beings, no parts left out. She also wishes to see and sense the world with soul. Patel’s literary work has appeared in About Place, Buddhist Poetry Review, Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine, Passing It On, Soul Forte, Touch: The Journal of Healing, Braided Way, The Healing Muse, The Mindfulness Bell, The Mindful Word, Pulse: Voices from the Heart of Medicine, We’Moon, and The Wayfarer. Information about her meditative and literary offerings can be found at www.wisdominwaves.com.

Permission


As you step inside this blessing, 
notice where you are, 
and hear 

the sounds it makes: sizzle of waves’
tumble and summersault.
Notice the smell 

of fish and salt on the wind, the feel 
of wind’s fingers, roughing up
your loose hair.

The grasses on the sand dunes feel 
this blessing and its music: 
they sway 

and rustle like tiny maracas.  

As you step inside this blessing 
step again, again, and run, 
(or try to)

down the dry, squishy sand to the sand
that’s firmer near the sea, 
and step

and step again, lifting your feet up high, 
and—look—go on—go on—
no one’s around—

you can dance now—



"Blessing with Many Rooms" (excerpt) © Jan Richardson from How the Stars Get in Your Bones: A Book of Blessings. Used by permission. janrichardson.com

Johanna Caton, O.S.B, is a Benedictine nun of Minster Abbey, in Kent, England. Her poems have appeared in The Christian Century, St Austin Review, Ekphrastic Review, Amethyst Review, One Art, Today’s American Catholic, Fathom, Fare Forward, Windhover, The Catholic Poetry Room, and other publications. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee.