Saturday, 6 July 2024
Psalm in the Shadow | Spoken Word
Friday, 7 June 2024
Forest Song
Tuesday, 27 June 2023
Return to Treasure Island
Glistening hot
white flour
baked
with salt
and sea oats, stirred
by continuous breeze with
astonishingly
turquoise water.
But there’s a rest place.
It’s been here all these years.
Why did we miss some?
And what if we hadn’t?
“Nostalgia” comes from
ancient words
meaning
“return home” and
“pain”.
I read a sign.
Those cheerful green parakeets –
we called them parrots –
with their short, high, squawking language,
are transplants from South America,
But this
became
their home.
If I had never stopped
coming down the Florida road –
Family migration for a regular filling
of delight, excitement satisfied –
Would I feel
the pain
of returning to this
piece of home?
Wednesday, 9 June 2021
Reflection on the Death of a Saint
Friday, 8 January 2021
Easter in the Northwoods
Reflections on a personal spiritual retreat, weekend of Resurrection Day 2012, Boundary Waters, Northern Minnesota
Up the joyous coastline,
fresh and free all feels,
To the place Adventurous Christians
Gloriously
Rightfully
Present with the mystery -
Easter in the Northwoods.
The sound of my soul
rises,
resonating
with this
wild freedom.
A million arboreal cathedral spires
point my heart to You,
Here,
with Nouwen my companion in solitude,
Sitting on the riverbank,
edge of holy waters -
Boundary
between now and eternity.
Strangers welcome me
Saints draw me
in to havens of hewn trees,
Feed me
what's Real.
Woodstove warms my spirit,
the rustic restores me.
I've come alive again.
Monday, 7 December 2020
Foreshadowing
O God Eternal, O God of Mayflies
Shepherd, Overseer of the long-dancing
stars' lives
and the fleeting flame of flowers,
King of the beats
of hummingbird wings
and mouse hearts,
Choreographer of continental drifts
and Grower of bristlecone pines,
Lord of human breaths
and comet revolutions,
Are not our times held in wise hands?
Ancient of Days,
Who but You has seen
the rise and fall of seas and nations,
the birth of the earth
and all the life her womb has nourished?
Who but You is the Life-Singer?
Who but You, our Beginning and End?
Wednesday, 2 September 2020
The Last Word
Words shook me.
I felt the reality of death in them –
stark, unveiled,
shimmering and pain-laced.
A brief utterance in time,
But the weight in its wake
bends eternity.
O God of bodies,
Your presence feels our fear;
Our tears
are Your heart language.
Fragility
does not offend You.
O God Resurrector,
There’s Light
coming out the edges
of The Sentence,
Because You are present there,
already, now.
It’s just the first clause;
The Word at the end is Yours,
is You.
Saturday, 23 May 2020
O Spirit
Descend and move us,
O uncontrollable Guide.
We cannot manipulate
the Cloud and the Flame.
How foolish
are our attempts -
Categorizing the unknown,
Forecasting God.
Do we only like You
when Your form is small?
comfortable?
describable?
Is our allegiance conditional
on agreement?
familiarity?
predictability?
O uncivilized Fountain,
Are we embarrassed
by Your joy and grief?
Are we ashamed of Your tears,
Humiliated by Your dancing?
Do we laugh when You weep
and weep when You laugh?
O unreasonable Wisdom,
Do we hush the children,
Do we silence the prophets -
ignore those who speak from the margins?
Have we doused
Your refining blaze
And built walls to block
Your propelling wind?
O ancient Fire,
Thaw our frozen hearts!
O eternal Breath,
Fill our empty lungs!
Expose the limits of our logic,
our fig leaves of comprehension.
Awake our imaginations
and nourish us with mystery.
O untaintable Purifier,
Burn up our false power
that we may know Love.
Blow away our counterfeit hope
that we may see Resurrection.
Form dust into clay jars
Holy to the Lord.
Come dwell,
O unparalleled Treasure,
and flow from us
as Life to all the world.
Ascension - 4.16,17,19.20
Sun blazes, beams down,
nothing to hinder, to flicker
its gaze.
Footstep crunches the glittering crust,
crushes the gleaming crest,
Twelve points biting
wind-sculpted white.
Lungs lunge,
sparse oxygen seizing;
Heart thunders,
lightning-laced and charged.
Ears catch the whistle -
wind whipping rock rims,
the cleft catching the call.
Pause.
then
Climb.
What else
can one do
In response to
all this?