Concerning Hope

Christianity, Life, Poetry

 

Copy of Copy of Gift (1)

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What I Know of Grace

Christianity, Poetry

Blog pic 2

Surrender

Christianity, Life, Poetry

Surrender v. 2

Housework

Christianity, Life, Poetry

House Cleaning

Why I doubt

Christianity, Life, Poetry

Broken

Terms and Conditions

Christianity, Poetic images, Poetry

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Photo credit: Artifactuprising.com

Going under

Christianity, Life, Poetry

Watch her drift beyond shore’s edge

Body half risen, half submerged

Observed by faithfuls on the bank

Robed white as if for rapture.

Watch preacher dunk her under

The cool, murky shallow & up

Into searing midday sunlight.

Watch sisters receive her with

A towel & embraces 

like a newborn damp & alive.

Watch her take to the road alone

At service end, returning

To her own sacred ground that 

Heals scars water alone cannot

Cleanse, that full immersion cannnot

                                                                  Undo.

Oratorio

Christianity, Poetry

His return was 

not an Ode to Joy,

*

But a quiet oratorio 

publically unannounced.

*

She, a devoted fan, 

was his first listener

*

Reacting, at first, as one does 

to the loss of an old friend.

*

But his voice makes this new tune 

old for her again, resurrecting

lessons at his feet &

works of wonder & mercy.

*

His solo proclaims another hope 

implied in apologues & private revelations.

*

A pre-release track, so to speak,

promoting the real thing.

*

& she carries with her 

this comeback song

*

Ready to be heard by those

with ears to hear.

Cornerstones

Christianity, Poetry

This is an edited version of a poem that I recently published in Emmanuel College’s literary magazine “The Saintly Review.”

Twin-hilt spires 

loom above bodies 

that built them. 

The crucifix is  

a golden weight 

hauled to its apex 

throne. 

Osnaburg shirts hide 

taut arms &  

striped, glistening backs 

lifting oak shingles 

into place. 

On Sunday morning 

eyes watch mosaics 

reflect a hope, 

sacrifice greater than 

themselves. 

Beneath consecrated piety 

names hide in 

beating breasts of 

plastered bricks, aisle 

seats & nave. 

Leagues away absent 

bodies sway, hands 

raise in unbowed 

praise, souls convulse, 

enraptured in 

the mystery.

Neo Psalm II

Christianity, Poetry

Because I am

The ancient

Rock fence

Winding ’round

Pasture’s edge

Because I flow

As a rippling

Current over the

Lake’s broad back

Because I am the

Blue dasher

On the limp

Blade of grass

Because I Am

Because I am present

Here, in all things,

Even when no one

Looks or cares to listen.