The Distress (Letter to the Editor)

My eyes peruse the abuse

from the tip of an unbeliever’s pen.

 

We shall counter that blade

with flaming swords

holding back

their tide of triumph.

 

The enemy shall not overcome.

 

Funny, how quickly I run out to the paper,

funny, the faith I have

that He will do as He says

as I meet Him at His word…

 

Yet I can’t remember

to read the daily Bible passage

on the bottom corner

of the same page.

 

Slippery

The least of these

beasts, please,

twisting under trees, aiming

for your Achillies

daughter of Eve

 

danger in the dirt

just enough until it hurts

stock still, stone cold

statue coming at you

 

diamond-shaped head

she strikes until it’s dead

the knowledge

that the groveling

empty promises

 

silver-tongued

backhanded balustrades

propping up their foundations

sidewinding

side-of-the-mouth

 

fork-tongued devil

Commonplace Church: Advent 2017

Once, it was foretold that your son would be conceived of a virgin.

Come, Lord Jesus.

 

God was silent, for four hundred years, before the birth of your son.

Come, Lord Jesus.

 

Amid the struggles of desolation and loneliness, Mary kept the faith.

Come, Lord Jesus.

 

We wait humbly, patiently, in reverence for you this Christmas season.

Come, Lord Jesus.

 

We wait for you to come again.

Come, Lord Jesus.

 

reading based on Isaiah 7:14


Like Mary this Christmas season, the Lord has come upon us.

We are highly favored.

 

Like Mary, sometimes we are troubled at Your words. Yet so unlike she, we hesitate to unabashedly follow You.

You are highly favored.

 

In the midst of the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, may we find time to be quieted and humbled enough in Your presence to listen to the promptings of Your Spirit.

You are highly favored.

 

reading based on Luke 1:26-38


Lord, you direct us in the ways we should go, as servants for Your word.

Lord, seat us humbly at your feet.

 

Lord, you wear the crown of the coming King, yet we are usurpers to your throne.

Lord, seat us in Your courts.

 

Lord, You are the bread of life, and we are hungry for You.

Lord, seat us at Your table.

 

reading based on Luke 1:46-56


Lord, like Mary, we travel as outcasts both unfamiliar and unwelcome in this world, country, city, home, and self.

Lord, we look to You to make straight our paths in the wilderness as we prepare the way for the coming of Christ.

 

Our feet are swollen from walking paths You have not called for us to walk.

We await Christ’s birth.

 

Our minds are clouded with fears, doubts, and worry.

We await Christ’s birth.

 

Our backs are stooped and broken, carrying the burdens we were not meant to carry.

We await Christ’s birth.

 

Our bellies crave that which appetites cannot suffice.

We await Christ’s birth.

 

Lord, we are pregnant with dreams and desires, thanks, and praise that belong only unto You.

We await with faith and hope the coming of the Christ-child who will be our salvation

reading based on Luke 2:1-7


 

Gabriel brings the news

Joseph takes on Mary and the baby blues

We treasure up all these things and ponder them in our hearts

 

She carries the baby on the donkey’s back

animals offer up shelter, it’s an inn that they lack

We treasure up all these things and ponder them in our hearts

 

heavenly hosts’ light show — do you see this?

shepherds open hearts to witness

We treasure up all these things and ponder them in our hearts

 

wise men bringing gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh

let them know Herod’s sniffing ’round, got to get out of here

Christmas is not about the cacophony.

It’s about Jesus, about clarity.

Help me to see thee.

 

reading based on Luke 2:19


 

What began at the garden

to the book of Revelation

and all points in between

 

beginning and the end

on the cross, and up to Canaan

and all points in between

 

the birth and the death

all in his hands so you can rest

and all points in between

 

reading based on Luke 2:7, John 19:26-27

P.P.S.

These apparitional jaunts, haunt

these halls, taunt

these tall

tales

I tell myself.

 

Face the facts:

 

Paul Bunyan swung his axe

still failed to fell the trees.

Paul Sheldon, tied up on his back

fumbled at the keys.

Saul was on the learning track

till the light brought him to his knees.

 

Humbled, bumbling fumble:

 

If it causes you to stumble

cut it off.

Do not let your left hand

know

what the right

is doing.

 

Some day

I’ll write that letter.

 

Blinded by the thought

as light is shed

on another

path.

PWNR of a Lonely Heart (Suffer not a Witch)

Are the planets

in their correct houses

to begin this?

Something

definitely amiss

these phases

the way you behave is

nothing short

of bi-polar, maybe baby

in a stroller

pre-pregnancy

hesitancy.

 

Giving in to these base urges,

as we write our dirges

slowly sinking

obviously

not thinking.

Beating my breast

that reeling

feeling

in my chest

Neanderthal

sloped forehead in

consternation, frustration

monomyth

and a fire in the belly.

Jelly?

 

Astrological australopithecines

can’t walk the street

without causing

wanderings, amid that fertile

crescent of a moon

a little too soon

shooting for the stars

and my prized consolation

is these constellations

as we play connect-the-dots

amid forget-me-nots

you smell of roses

and those hips

the kind that could sink ships

Helen of Troy

Mother of Pearl

giving codependency

another whirl.

Girl. Mmmm.

Rebel without a God

AD2

 

Shuffling, shambling

down the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.

 

The glitz and the glamour

and the people passing by

as quickly as my days

upon this earth.

 

I’ve been down these streets, before

beckoning, begging me

to come back.

A taste, a try…

a titillation?

 

And somehow

I get lost along the way,

the world

has tugged at my heartstrings

stringing me along

making me think

that I want more.

 

Stars in the sidewalk

losing their shine

as the sun sets,

hides behind the clouds

from me

the things He wants me to see.

 

Pitted and cracked–

watch your step!

–you’re skating on thin ice.

Deeper and deeper

into the maze of the city

walls mugging up around me,

beating me up,

closing me in.

I run

even if not sure

why it is that I do so,

nothing of the sort

that the big black empty

can hold.

Driving down dark alleyways

losing my way

time, direction…

stumbling, falling,

crying, puling

in a corner.

 

God knows

where I’m meant to be.

Spirit Walk

Talismanic totem

your name stands tall

riding on the shoulders broad

of the great chiefs

who have come before you

gone before your time

robbed of the land

within the circle of

the Great Mother

who has called you home.