Woodpecker

It started not slowly,
started rapidly, suddenly.
As I approached
pushing the stroller
with a sleeping baby,
I heard it.
Peck, peck, peck.
Somewhere in a tree,
unseen
but persistent.
Peck, peck, peck.

And later in the week,
after reading the pastor's words
I connected them
to what the Dalai Lama wrote.
Peck, peck, peck.
Her:  "Each person is Jesus.
See Jesus in every person
you meet."
Peck, peck, peck.
Him:  "Each person is your mother.
See your mother in every person
you meet."
Peck, peck, peck.

She called me crying.
A letter from Treasury
saying that she owed money.
More money than a poor woman,
who suffers from debilitating illnesses
and is nearing the culmination of nasty divorce
from a man who has abandoned her
to her social security disability
and the Lupus that weakens
her being,
more money than
she can afford.
Peck, peck, peck.

Later yet the same week
in the public library
I touched her hand
as she held back tears.
Jesus
or
my mother.
Jesus mom.
Peck, peck, peck.
Tonight, I know
I can't cure her illnesses.
Honey, I ain't no miracle worker
but I am blessed
because I feel your pain.
Peck, peck, peck.