Category: Poetry
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Sitting Near You at Supper
There are no more questions to posedespite my inability to put this Mystery into words. Now, I simply sit in Your presence gazing at the glow of candlelight on Your face. Now, I simply listen as You offer Your life for mine in pieces of bread and a communal cup of wine. Now, I sit…
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The Way
When my I is no longer me I will finally be free to change the world. Painting by Kume Bryant: https://fineartamerica.com/profiles/kume-bryant/shop/prints
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The Faithful
The early church (before ‘church’ was a word) grew through faith and prayer and confidence in the Word of God… …the Word that had walked with them ate with them and ascended from them in their sight and blindness. May mountains move again! Lift us from this place to another while Satan’s army slumbers all…
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Close Calls
In all the ways my attempts to belong in this world were rejected – For all the moments my heart was broken by shattered dreams of fame – On every single dime my path turned abruptly from the masks I mistook for Truth – I thank You, God – a million times over – Oh,…
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Floating in God’s Heart
Is it wrong that my one desire is to be floating— far and away from all this—in the center of Your heart? I know with clarity—beyond explanation—only there is my joy. Now that I know this—and even if it is wrong—nothing else will ever suffice.
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The Mediator*
Oh, how my shoulders float above me now—unencumbered by the condescending words of men and the whispering judgements from friends—for now I know the Mediator to whom Job requested come, now I bow only before Him—my Advocate, Your Son. *With thanks to Job 9:33 Job and His Friends, artist: Gustave Dore (1832-1883)
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The Love of Our Lord*
Ah, the sweet relief of the Love of our Lord – do you know it?have you felt it?has it transformed your soul? Ah, the blessing of it – the peacethe restthe sweet, sweetsilence. I ask again – do you know it?Does it call you to profess your loyalty attend weekly services give your time, talent,…
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Are You OK?
The traffic of this world swirls all around,stirring up the grime of machination and frustration.Asleep or distracted,we bump or crash into the car stopped short in our path.Blaming and the buried injustices of our childhoodtake the reins,pulling us back into the cycle of sleepiness(only now disguised as hatredandrage) and we forget once again our origin,our…
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As It Is*
ENORMOUS SUNFLOWERStaller than I was at twelvei can prove it.there are pictures.they were real.i can see themas they were back then.when everything else was hiddenat least i could see thoseENORMOUS SUNFLOWERS.and someone thought to take a pictureso that this daywhen forty years have passedi know for certaini am telling the truth at least about those…
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My Words
If I were an artistI’d paint away the darkness so that the world could see my spark.If I were a musician I’d play the loveliest notes so that the world could hear my glow.If I were a dancer I’d float across a ballroom so that the world could see me shine.Alas, I cannotdraworsingor playor elegantly…