Light of Love
In this world of chaos
In this darkness of night
A beam of light appears
Are we aware of the light
A lone star in the darkened sky
Light that leads us
Light that gives us hope
Our hearts resonate the joy
Our hearts open to love
The world in darkness has seen a bright light
The world in chaos has stopped to reflect
Only one thing remains
To live love so that all may live
written for Christmas 2022
Ember
The magic of fire
entrances my soul.
Flame tongues chant the challenge:
Do what I do!
Make ash of dreams and life
now spent.
Make light of hopes and vision
to come.
Be ember, divine.
In Just-spring
In Just-spring, when the world is mud-luscious…puddle-wonderful…” These words from a poem by e.e.cummings conjure up the promise of glee, forbidden pleasures and child-like abandon. They invite consideration of other “in Just-spring” occurrences!
In Just – spring,
the sky line is brushed a soft green;
buds well toward leafing,
fern fingerlings unfold along the shoulders of streams.
In Just – spring,
yellow crocuses poke their heads through mounds of dead leaves;
orange crocuses ambush with a smiling “surprise”!
In Just – spring,
birds sing Lauds,
proclaim Benedictus,
visit nature’s “home depot” and begin nest building.
In Just – spring,
Jesus rises from the dead resurrecting hope,
invades locked rooms,
beckons the fearful forward.
In Just – spring,
fallible followers become disciples,
speak in tongues,
create communities of “one heart and one mind.”
In Just – spring,
prison doors mysteriously open,
the suffering rejoice in their trials,
murderers are pardoned.
In Just – spring,
missionary journeys begin,
everywhere is home,
no one is excluded.
In Just – spring,
our “Easter” calling is renewed,
joyful witnessing is eager,
discovery and revelation of the Risen Christ is abundant.
In Just – spring…
Spring into us, Just One, that you be resurrected over and over
in us and in our world.
One Word
(John 20:11)
Stooped with sorrow,
trailing hope like a discarded garment,
I faced the empty tomb.
It only took one word.
The Gardener said “Mary”
and the stone on the tomb
of my heart was rolled back.
One word
And the shutter on the window of my soul
was flung open.
One word transformed everything, transformed me.
One word
And I was resurrected from the dead
and sent to share the loaves and fishes
of my life.
That day I learned that
one word can feed a few, feast a thousand.
One word was all it took.
After Moriah
I understand.
You heard the call, and resolution
Grew on greenwood (In those days.)
Your “Here I am” stood tall
to start its three-day climb
under a weight of firewood.
I understand.
For every Isaac-heavy question
that detained, some youthful answer
bounded on ahead---sustained.
I understand. You came so close!
Even piled your stones
Arranged your wood. . . Just
knowing how long you stood.
You see,
I, too, once glanced into
surrounding thickets
only to discover
that there was no ram!
Meeting the Species
NO! NO!! Please don’t go away! I see you stop…look, listen…
Study that huge machine (which is I)
You’ve been so happy, so busy among furry, feathered friends
There’s been so much to discover, so much to share. But I take one slow, noiseless step
Closer and Oh!
I guess you don’t understand…
Will I see you again? Tomorrow?
Ever?
Good Question!
Real life
Is lived
At the center
Of
Now----- then why
Do I turn up
The corners
Of
Yesterday
And
Tomorrow-------
As if they have answers
To things they know nothing about
Like
For instance
Today?!
Bare Branch Poverty
Suppose “DENUDED”
Were synonymous with
“dead” and
“barren”
Just an alternate for
“BARE.”
It would be sad,
but simple, too…
Last line.
Road’s end.
Case closed.
Suppose, however,
that the words are
pregnant!
then it’s
wait
and watch
and will
for sap is rising in the
winter wood
and in the ashes’ womb
a tiny Alleluia stirs!
Silencio
My mind chatters
like a squirrel in an elm.
My silly heart follows,
wishing not to take the helm.
But nature has a message
if I but quiet down:
"Do I hustle?" asks the oak--
" I am sentinel to the sky."
"Am I rushing?" asks the lake--
"I reflect as time goes by."
All of creation
joins in the song:
SIT REST SILENCE
that you, too, may BE-long.
Still Born Poem
Sudden word-pangs
And images, long curled in fetal stillness
Stirred, and stetched,
And nudged against the womb-walls of my mind.
It seemed the ripe-time,
Very edge of birthing!
But mid-wife, Beauty,
Somehow lacked the gentler touch.
She was TOO swift,
Too savage.
And that first ecstatic cry came forth
A mute—
To be forever swaddled in a
wonder-silence!
stunningly lovely...eecummings and I have Just-spring smiles