he picked up the book and flipped to the page
he knew most well
it had been held open at that spot many times
and this time no less did upon reading those lines
he had long ago memorized
his eyes began to fill
and as his eyes caressed those words
his thoughts flew to higher planes
and he thought of what it would be to those words one day hear
sometimes he doubted sometimes he feared
that he never would
yet he knew those for lies and said begone!
and recited the promises and verse
and clung to the truth he knew
that what he sought was not due to him for his worth
rather it was what another had done for him so long ago
as he spoke and bled and died upon this very earth
he knew it was because of what was done that day
in a real and literal fashion marked down in ink and blood
that he had a home built for him
a home built in a country far away yet now even his
so pilgrim boy he walked and walked rejoicing in the already
and looking forward for the not yet but soon to come
for the kingdom he sought was already blossoming within
and the sealed sign was his
as he abided in that life that had been so dearly bought
one with God and one with brothers and sisters alongside
and so that pilgrim trail he walked not alone
but ever onward he trod and trod
rejoicing in the joys of someday home
when he would look upon the face of God in Jesus Christ
and no longer doubt or fear or raise lament
instead he’d hear those words for which he’d
dreamed and wept and prayed and been kept secure
well done my good and faithful servant
and join would his praise with all the saints
and the choruses will be sung most fervent
and all will be well with his soul
no longer does his heart need bear the sword
for holy holy holy is the Lord
and we have met him at his table
come Lord Jesus come
let us rise and feast with you
Tag: poem
Michigan
shoulders slumped she stands at the edge of the dock
at the opposite shore her eyes gaze and she prays
that soon the morning mist will clear
for now she wipes her eyes and cries
and asks oh god how did it come to this
not expecting an answer
so it surprises her when one comes a sudden
as she feels the vibration of her phone
in slow motion she pulls it out even as
her eyes stay locked on the choppy waves
she stands tall and answers
hello?
Endurance
how lovely it is to walk down this forest path
underneath the thick boughs of summer’s glory
still though with anticipation i wait for the turn
because these steps i take are not idle ones
but day by day bringing me closer
to that for which my heart longs
forever communion at heaven’s table
that moment when bread is broken and wine is poured
and we share a cup and drink redemption’s story
so as i wait for autumn’s leaves
and for the skies to fill with red and orange and yellow
i say to myself that though i know not what comes
i trust and in faith abide in the vine
oh what incomprehensible peace fills my soul
i cling to that word that so gently clings to me
Party
She sits cross-legged on the carpet
apart from the others as she doodles
on her post it notes
She pastes one here, one there, and
another on the coffee table
and then waits for us all to gather round
for the show and tell
We told her it wasn’t that kind of party
that we just wanted to eat and drink
and flirt and talk
yet she held her ground and kept scribbling
and said don’t you all want
to see my art?
Well this is awkward a few of us thought
signifying such with eyebrows raised
yet perhaps pity calls for us to scoot over
and let her explain her masterpiece
and so in condescension we drift her way
and as her eyes brighten and she whispers
the story she has devised
we all find ourselves hushing
because we find ourselves wanting
to know how the story ends
and guess what?
It turns out it was that kind of party
for the sharing of art
and bearing of souls
it turns out that sometimes
the two can be one and the same
what do you know?
And so now I find myself scribbling poetry
and seeking to find a friendly soul to read
who will do me the honor?
Grasping
Look my friend see the lighthouse standing friendly on that distant shore
these seas are choppy the wind is perilous the dark approaches
yet somehow I can’t feel anxious anymore
let me put my arm around you and hold you close to me
and perhaps as we draw near to the jetty you’ll understand
just what it is that resonates within my soul
as i consider the beauty of this grey sky over this grey sea
but maybe you won’t and that’s ok
for it took me a while to fully grasp the complex interplay
between the immanent and the real
yet now perhaps I can describe it if you’ll lend me an hour or two
or perhaps not for these concrete words that pour from this mouth
cannot do justice to the ineffable of the divine
yet for some reason I can’t help it
with all my eloquence or lack thereof i’ll try
come with me my friend let’s disembark and feel the dry land once again
and come to this table and on topics of philosophy and metaphysics
and on good red meat and potatoes roasted let us sit and dine
does that sound alright?
take off that rain-sodden sweatshirt and take this towel and dry your hair
and follow me and come inside
Indwelt
she walks down the sidewalk as she processes
the last hour on the phone
and replays every moment
every syllable
every change of tone
her face grows ever more still
as the tears track down
and she feels her heart begin to calcify
and begin the metamorphosis to stone
but is this the end or just an intermission?
she has not read the playbill
so she cannot say
but it feels like a death she mutters in her head
and so perhaps not another resurrection moment
at least not today
perhaps though if she wanders down to that coffeeshop
just maybe there will be an open table just for her
and she’ll fill up the pages of her notebook
with all the lines that burning fill her mind
and then with the ashes of their bonfire
her grief will float with the breeze to heaven’s door
she hopes so oh she hopes so
for she can’t take this anymore
Incarnation
purple sky darkens as chaos threatens to fall upon the earth
so I cry save us save us
oh Jesus save us and grant us
thy second birth
so witness the account that history has given
and consider the potentiality
of an intrusion from the heavens
what some today name a miracle
and if it is possible that we know not all things
can you believe that perhaps just maybe
there was a descent from heaven
and that with the hovering of the divine
Jesus came
and in humility proclaimed
that he was the last and first
and testified of glories beyond our ken
so that even as he prayed to heaven’s father
we knew something was different about this man
and perhaps this was an instance
of heaven reaching down to remake and heal
for God knows we need it
and even now we plead it
that God give us a second chance
and he says I have
believe in the Son of Man
and eternal life I’ll grant
forever and forever
dare you chance?
this is life I say to myself
to know the God who knows me more
than I know myself now or ever will
and so of course I cast myself upon this shore
and dance upon this lawn and sing once more
for hark my friends there is none other
and naught better
than the true rest and bliss
that comes from resting your eyes upon
the very face of God
and knowing you are found within
the meeting of humanity with the divine
for in Christ our life may now be hid
oh brother oh sister
taste and see
rest in Him.
Intermission
she bends over the little secretary desk
and scribbles with all her might
outside the thunder bugles triumphantly
but Emma doesn’t fear the night
for all the raging of the cosmos
only fuels the maelstrom in her heart
and she bleeds messy prose onto the paper
witness this faltering house of cards
but it’s ok she says to herself
for surely soon this candle will go out
and on my pillow i’ll lie down and
lie awake and for hours muse on art
and the way the wooden crosspiece
struck my eye as the autumn light
fell just so upon that old red barn
i remember that afternoon i wrote
a poem upon my scratchpad as i
leaned against that tree and breathed
deep of pine and felt the comfort
of the old withered bark against my back
cozy in my sweatshirt and my eyes alive
with all that was on the page unturned
now alas i’ve seen too much and i fear
that perhaps all my best lines are burnt
but at least i can’t say i haven’t written
even if the pages are all fluttering
in the wind
and who knows what backstreet alley
they’ll end up in
alas my soul comfort yourself with what you know
and rest in those old promises
i have nothing else
Prickly Pear
Her head whirls with all that has been revealed and she feels as if perhaps
the books weren’t exactly correct in how they informed her dreams
but now she steps up the tree-lined path
and her feet start to drag as her heart
begins to tremble
for now she comes to the crux of it
indeed now in the fullness of time
that moment that has been just so defined
and her mouth dry she steps through the doorway
and click clack click clack her shoes strike the floor
until she reaches the spot that she never thought she’d see
and she can’t even kneel but instead falls to her face
and beneath the empty cross she cries out for grace
now her heart settles and despite her tears she breathes
what is this strange mystery
this God who died for me
Self Examination
Cross-legged on the bed she sits
staring at the cursor that blinks in endless taunt
reminding her of all the lines she’s failed to write
and of all the momentous mementos that she’s lost
for now she forgets to look around her
when she’s sitting on the bus stop bench
yes there’s stories thick as forests in the muttering voices
but the only voices she hears now are those in her head
so what does it matter that her pen is dead
or more like it – that her notepad is white without a blemish
of messy scribbling in furious fantasy of that which used to be
so now she blinks in resignation as the tears start to fall
eyes wide open on the bed she lies
Something Weird 