Steven Schroeder | sister Susan
in memoriam Susan Schroeder (1963-2023)
Sister Susan dwelt in possibility,
ready to be happy. She was
a seeker all her life,
living life, as we
must, forward,
understanding it, as we do,
backward. She could never suffer
the suffering of any other.
She took in strays and made
a place for them, loved them, all of them.
She surrounded herself with color.
On her wall, Saint Brigid
who was divine before they
made a saint of her and, still,
dances, two Chinese characters
that, side by side, mean harmony,
a snippet of the old teacher’s wisdom,
demanded by the border patrol
before he could cross over
to the other side – a journey
a thousand villages wide begins
when you put your foot down, and
I can hear REM singing stand
in the place where you are,
think about direction, think
about the place where you live.
On her bookshelf, Joyce and Whitman;
Beckett and O’Connor; McCarthy, Synge,
and Cisneros; McCourt, Forster, and Kerouac,
Máire Bradshaw, Rosemary Canavan, and other
poets side by side, enjoy each other’s company.
She was loved, and, still, she lives
in the hearts of all who love her.
Remember her by never suffering
the suffering of another, any other.
Take the world in, take it all in,
knowing the end will come
as a surprise, as it does,
as it always does. Knowing
it may come tomorrow,
plant a tree today.
In lieu of flowers,
scatter seeds.
Listen to the birds.
Rest in the power of peace, sister,
as do we all. We will carry on, making
scenes, taking care of one another,
taking the world in,
taking it all in.
Borger, Texas
30 November 2023
