Untitled

I will lift you
up on wings like eagles, angels.
I will carry you above
the turbulent, hateful, evil waters
the world has thrown
at you.
You are the puppet
and I am the master; you stumble
and fall, yet I will always scoop you back up, holding your hand.
I will remove this filth, dirt, tarnish, that
covers your body and mind and soul, so
that you can become clean and pure
White as snow.
Be still My child, and know that I am

Mirror

Fun-house mirror;

Distorted by bias,

Warped by the ego.

What is this I see?

But a startling image of me.

Who am I?

Handheld mirror.

Held low, I seem tall.

Held high, I seem small.

Changed in relation,

To preference and station.

Who are you?

Nails

Inch by agonizing
Inch the nails
Sink deeper into
His hands and
Feet, bounding
Him to the
Cross. Blood
And sweat
Run down
His face from
Their origin, the brow
Of thorns, which pierce
His perfect, flawless skin. Paying
The ultimate price in
Return for our
Salvation and freedom
“It is Finished”

Someday

Each star, a small
Tiny luminary, the
Hope that I cling to
Which tells me there is
Something far greater than me
Out there waiting
For the day when
We will meet face to face.
Someday

Inside Outside

Outside
The wind howls
And the sky roars
Filling itself with flashes of white fire
Droplets of
Greed
Envy
Hatred
Sin
Fall from the dark
Turbulent sky,
Water bombs that
Violently explode on impact
Flooding, tainting the earth
Satan
Devil
The Fallen Angel
One way

Inside
The crackling fire
Burns a beacon of hope, radiating
Hope
Warmth
Trust love
Filling the quiet atmosphere
With a burning desire to know more
About Him, to
Love more
Feel more
Freedom from the outside world
Freedom to live again
Redeemer
Alpha and Omega
Another way

What will you choose?
Inside or Outside

snow day

So while I was out sick and trapped by the snow, I went for a short walk with the dog, saw many things, including pastoral scenes and a burial, and as I lay in the snow staring up at the sky, the following poem came to my mind. I was thinking about how therapeutic the simpler things in life, like warm sunshine and fruit from one's own apple trees, can be.


Economy

While walking the dog today in the snow
I, like every other American, was thinking about the economy,
Having just felt the first personal effects of it.

As we followed the path of the tractor
Up the ridge to the cow field where the animals were feeding
I thought about the economy

As I looked at the dilapidated hand-built structure
Where someone long ago once dwelt
I thought about economy

As I halted out of respect at the end of our lane
Where loved ones in black laid their wife, sister, mother to sleep
In the cold hard family ground
I thought economy

As I entered our drive, staring out at the mountains
Who once knew no development but farms
I thought about economy

As I, like a child, dropped down in the snow
And made one snow angel after another
After another
After another
To surprise the neighbors when they ventured out
To greet me from my tall window
I thought about comfort

Lying there in the snow, oblivious to wind and cold
Feeling the sun’s warmth through the bare branches above,
Anticipating freshly baked bread decked with summer’s preserves
Laughing at the dog’s wonder at the snow, at my wild now inanimate behavior

I thought about economy; I felt content.


2/4/09