Category: Poetry
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“The Cry Of All That Is Broken”*
Drums in earsthrobwith the unsteady beat ofbroken hearts – hearts putting hope in comforting liesand empty encouragements. How long willthe children sufferthirsthungerandillusions of love, promising waterbreadand sanctuary? The saddest part – we don’t even knowwe are broken. *With thanks for Paul Clark’s poem: This Is What Struggle Sounds Like
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Ritual
The little old lady knelt by the statue and prayed. The lifeless stone statue stared down at her blankly while her words ricocheted back at her decaying body still living and breathingonly in fear. That’s what I saw and felt bad about – but – How dare I? The Truth in that sacred space I…
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“To Walk With Me Is To Walk As Me”*
In this next step – may I see my own feet in Your sandals, brushed clean of the dust of man’s doubt and fear and disgust – may my toes be strong enoughto grasp hold of these too-big shoesthat know the Way – to walk as You walkto see as You seeto love as You…
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Misbelief
Hidden among the stories and memories oftriumph anddefeatare the chainsthat bind our souls to misbelief – that’s a thing, for sure – not misunderstanding,for it has nothing to do with knowledge – misbelief having everything to do with fear.If only there was Oneto show us the Way…I wonder:how many timesin the last two thousand years…
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These Dreams of Mine
These dreams of mine – the ones I cling to believing I will never feel fulfilleduntil they are realized – keep me shackled in the sewers of this world.But,when I flip the coinI see their worth – in guiding me away from me – if only I would not cling to them!How then can they…
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How I Know God
How impatient I have been and still am – I can’t even call it waitingbecause impatiencedoes not wait – it paces and questionsYour motives for silence.How patient You have been and always are – it must be LOVE – for nothing else no one else has ever accepted me and welcomed me in all my…
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“We Shall Overcome”*
(In memory of Paul E. Clark) “It’s not too late.”* That’s the message I received from my friend this morning. His poems on white paper in the early morning seem to tell me thingsthat our lively conversationsdid not. Words are funny like that – they live and breathe on paper – how oddandmysteriousand miraculous!Thanks Paul,…
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The Wolf I Fed and The Miracle I Am
The wolf I fed – thinking it was a happy-go-lucky-tail-wagging-doggie – latched on with its fangs anddragged me to hell and backhundreds of times.What kind of blindness is that?Denial? Pride? Ego? Don’t answer that – unless you have fed a wolf of your ownyou will never understand the miracle I am.
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Moments of Clarity in the Corner of My Eye*
Have you ever noticed howthe birds sing as if they know all the answers – in the morning before the world turns on the lightsand in the evening as they soothe us into night. You can set your watch by it.Once before, I quipped in a poemthat I wished I spoke “bird” so that I…
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Just Stop It
Obsessed with the messworrying strivingfixingtryingto let go andlet God……pray moremeditate and discernOM OM OMstill nothing no peaceno resolutionno understandingjust emptinessandfrustration……what more must I do?!Therein lies the answer:letting goandletting Godis not about doing.