S p a c e
Like a curtain
The well of gravity
But when we
Preferred the mire
He fashioned wood
To cradle us
In the fold of purity
If we would.
I met a poem
She was one
She did for
The least of these
And was told
Twas for the Son
To His beat
Line by line
With no thought
To her own
By which was shown
We too can poems be
On the lips of God.
A belief in God
To be a
Or at its
That’s no way
To use your brain.”
“The poor clod
Is merely clinging
To a friend
If such be the case
What say that you
Seek the answer to
Who imagined you?
Jordan has not left our side since we discovered one another yesterday. And Elijah wasted no time in seeing to his instruction. He has big plans for him. Or more accurately stated God does.
It has something to do with the people here in the slum, or more specifically with those who have expressed a desire to understand the meaning of the times in which we live.
The promised things are closer now than ever before.
A battle is ongoing for the allegiance of the peoples of this metropolis. Those in the well-to-do sectors have already surrendered to it, for they clearly see that their continued prosperity depends upon their submission.
Next they will seduce the slums.
From each other
Through our disguises
To where we are hiding
The cry of our hearts
Of our inmost deep sighing
Through and through
Inside we are dying
He cares, so…He seeks
And will not stop
Having counted the cost
High and low
For the coin that was lost
The dark, tooth and claw
For the sheep tempest-tossed
He cares, and He desires
That you would care too
And join in the game
And let Him send you.
The one I love
Loves the sea
Down by its roaring edge
She likes to be teased.
She joyously dances
Over each wave that advances
Watching curl upon curl
Unfurl and unfurl.
Now don’t think it odd
I think she is at play with God.
For the one I love
Loves the sea
And from its roaring edge
She smiles her love to me.
Written for my wife, and reposted here in celebration of her birthday month.
There is a hunger
that is not of the body.
A hunger that by the soul
only is known.
A thirst for the gentle curve
of another’s face
looking back into your own.
It’s a thirst not often sated.
It’s a hunger often prolonged
Our own desires oft times taint it.
Other times we’ve clearly been wronged.
Either way we come up empty
and in the midst of a famine again.
Instead of the self-promised plenty
we’re left with nary a friend
We begin by others forsaking,
we end by ourselves being forsook.
We never see ourselves making
our lives to others a sealed book.
With a strap and a lock
binding us tight
with the key having locked it
clasped in our fist-
shoved in our pocket
out of sight.
Still the desire within is to be opened –
to be read – and understood-
There is One only who can do it.
One tender enough not to tear
the pages as He goes through it.
In fact, He’ll mend and repair
and pour Himself into it
and shoulder each burdensome care.
“Come and eat,” He says, “at my table.”
“Come and drink,” He says, “of my wine.”
“ Come to me,” He says, “I’ll make you able.”
“Come to me,” He says, “abide in my vine.”
“By my side you shall no longer hunger.
“By my side you shall no longer thirst.
“You shall no longer labor under
that despot, sin, for which all is curst.”
True to say
that first time I heard His voice I dared not to answer
at His look I turned and ran the other way
I sensed the cost would mean all of me
and I knew I could not give that away.
Yet He persisted in pursuing me in my flight.
(As He is pursuing you, my dear friend, even now)
For all around us we are finding only deeper night.
(As I am sure if you’re truthful you’ll allow)
So turn, as I did, to enter His Light
Give Him the key to your life
you’ve been holding so tight.
Why get your fill of meaningless strife?
As I lay starving in that uttermost place
I turned and my gaze was drawn His way.
Drawn to the warm, gentle curve of His face-
and I drank in all He had to say,
“I was broken in my body for your hunger.
“Iron spilled my blood for your thirst.”
As my eyes clung to Him, they were opened.
In all His pain He showed me my worst.
“It was for me You bled,” I said.
For all my blackness inside – His heart had burst.
In response to such love I could do nothing less
than find all my joy in putting Him first.
From that day to this
there’s been no turning back
I look to Him so I will not miss
the way or take the wrong path.
Cleaving to His side
I no longer hunger
Leaving all my pride
I no longer thirst
I find I can bear up under
all life’s problems, even the worst.
Now, the desire within
now I am opened.
Is to read of Him
and to Him understand.
For I realize that it’s me He’ll send
(That’s always been part of His plan.)
Sent to love others
so it says, as my very self
and to proclaim to my brothers
that from His table He shares His wealth
and to love Him with all that I can
And to love Him with all that I am.