Friday, April 22, 2016

Blue Sky Wanders

The Blue Sky Wanders

I was afflicted today

with a distracting, uplifting,

case of the 'blue sky wanders.'


When gravity says I won't hold you bound;

When the road is open

and the map is vague.


The type of day that

brings to its company

a certain sort of memory:


The color of the ocean

seen from a bus

along the coast of Chile;


A love letter once received;


The fullness that bloomed

in an empty sanctuary,

while listening to the grandeur of quiet.


Kimberly M. King, RSCJ




Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Psalm Vision in the Rain

I loved looking out from the rocking chair this morning and seeing one bird proclaiming life in the midst of slappy wind-driven raindrops.  And I liked that I saw this bird while I was reading the psalm for today...

Be my rock of refuge,
a stronghold to give me safety.
You are my rock and my fortress;
for your name’s sake you will lead and guide me.

Into your hands I commend my spirit;
you will redeem me, O LORD, O faithful God.
My trust is in the LORD;
I will rejoice and be glad of your mercy.

from Psalm 31

Monday, April 4, 2016

What happens when...

Someone asked me recently what happens inside of me when I work on written translations. I share here my response.

Murmurations on the Page

When I read through the original
for the first time, it begins.
A glorious murmuration of
language alive,  alive
with flight and pitch,
tone, resonance, and meaning.

If I let go just enough, I
can feel the movements,
feel the life being spun.
And I begin to listen through
the shape emerging;
sorting the sounds and meanings I hear.

I write and listen and wait
up until and through
the last sound that is missing,
the note which makes the new breathe alone.
I wait until ah…
the harmony, the awe, of two flocks of words.

Kimberly M. King, rscj

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Easter Grace, 2016

Easter Grace, 2016

I know what rises from an acorn or bulb:

Beauty and a strength that parts the earth
in a need to reveal itself, to offer itself,
in the midst of the chaos, violence, and political uncertainty
of our world;

Beauty and strength that trumpets Glory! and Alleluia!
because it must.

What then, rises from a Love that cannot die?

From a Love that says Yes and
A love that seeks and stays, and says Always
and says Everywhere?

The complete love that says Do this and Remember me,
follow, serve, be broken open, welcome, accept,
lay down your life, take up your cross…RISE.

Bless our meal that by this nourishment
we might live into this rising, together…

Kimberly M. King, RSCJ

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Holy Thursday, 2016

Holy Thursday

Only in the first whispered imaginings has the world as a whole been at peace:

When the Word came forth and the great lights parted into day and night and it was Good.

With humanity came the chaos of ego and pride; power and fear;

and the grace of knowing, feeling, bone-deep and heart certain,

what it is to be at Home, to be known, to be Loved.

The contradictions are great; the potential gently, entirely, astounding;

Astounding and revealed in a multitude of ways, including

in the blessing of the bread that we share;

in the breaking of the bread we need;

in the living out of a Love that has been, and is, and shall be

from whisper, through wail, into laughter, into Peace once again.

Kimberly M. King, RSCJ

(Written to use as grace for our meal this evening)

The video clip is from the heart rending movie Of Gods and Men

Sunday, March 6, 2016


Mid-Lent 2016

Gossamer filaments of experience 
weave a shimmer of quiet within me,
a life-lived knowing
of seeming contradictions and grace.

Is this peace, I wonder…
the settling of my soul
into its shape, into its beauty,
I wonder…

As to whether it will last or
what it will mean
to the grand eternal scheme,
I can but give thanks and say that

like the rabbit in the book,
it feels as though
I am becoming real because of this:
a fullness of Love.

Kimberly M, King, RSCJ

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Lenten Promise


I find myself looking at Lent his year in terms of an awareness of promise along the journey. The sort of promise I am thinking of is the assurance of various realities... realities that can console, challenge, call forth, remind, etc.

There is the promise of awe and wonder-- The delight God takes in me and the gift of occasionally noticing some of the "10,000 places" (Gerard Manley Hopkins) Christ plays, revealing aspects of God's grace and fullness and creativity. The contrast of colors in a new box of crayons or the splay of bare branches against a winter blue sky; the harmonics of a mockingbird; the sound of a congregation singing a Capella; the intimate physics of all that keeps us bound together until as last we are freed again. This promise is what helps me talk about my journey; what drives me to find ways of expressing the overflow I can not contain; what sometimes fills my silence and rounds out my sigh.

There is also the promise of ache, struggle, hurt, and confusion. The life of Jesus certainly bears this out and my own life has been no different. Time in the garden; people who walk away; loneliness; taking up the Cross. This promise is a part of the others, a reality to be borne as well and honestly as I might bear it because it can not be taken away if I am to believe in the promise of Love.

Love...the beautiful and difficult honor. Love, the promise from which I can never be apart. Love, which sustains, frees, binds, calls, sends, and brings me home again... sometimes hurting, sometimes tired, sometimes full of gratitude, sometimes dancing with everything and nothing all at once....always welcomed, always cherished, always known. Love which has abundantly blessed me and brought me safe thus far.

How I walk in the light of these realities is how I walk the journey of my life. I pray especially this Lent to move through my days as one who believes that the Sacred Heart is where these promises find their fullness, where what is most completely human meets what is most gloriously divine. And that the Heart is in all and with all and for all, world without end, amen.