Original Poetry

  • Charlie

    Already I see gloating
    and glee that death
    has won a battle.

    Already I see response,
    rallying for against enemies
    perceived to be flesh and blood.

    Already I feel desperate
    to remind myself that victory
    over gloating and rallying

    and death

    is only in gathering
    around a cross

    and somehow believing
    it is deliverance.

  • Early morning, an Easter poem

    Alleluia!

    The Resurrection of God-come-to-as-us-one-of-us–

    Jesus!–

    can only be

    the Declaration:
    no one else has to die–
    not
    one–
    to right the world,
    humanity is healed,
    true Light will always
    scatter the darkness,

    the Proclamation:
    self-preservation is wholly unnecessary because the Holy One
    never saw corruption,
    entrusting instead of defending,

    the Announcement:
    there is no King but Christ,
    making many nations one
    multi-lingual people of Redemption, answering to no State
    but Love,
    in Word, Spirit, Divinity,

    the Hope:
    humanity destined
    for divination,
    Creation-cosmos, restored at last!

    Angels sing with
    Sons of Adam
    and Daughters of Eve,

    –as we weep from relief,
    falling into the eternal rest
    of mercy and grace–

    Jesus Christ, our Lord and our God!

    To know you and
    to be known
    by you
    is to find you
    All in All,

    forever and without end.

    Alleluia!


    Photo by Jordan Wozniak

  • The Texas country, a poem

    The Texas country

    Can be a pressure valve

    On the crucible of the Phoenix city

    For those that make the trip

    No less teeming with life

    Organic more than mechanical

    Electric less than infused with fossil fuels.

    Wide spaces

    Fresh air

    Black shade

    Considerate drivers.

    Older ways, well trodden

    And slow.

  • Poem for Ash Wednesday

    Return from your sin.

    Be faithful to the Gospel.

    And remember

    from dust

    you came and

    to dust

    you will return.

    Words that–when spoken along

    with the imposition of oily ashes

    crossed

    on my dirty forehead

    and the body and blood of Jesus

    the Christ that washes me white–

    remind of mercy and grace

    and love.


    This poem for Ash Wednesday was originally published on February 14, 2013

  • Pour: A poem about death and life

    We are called to pour out ourselves

    for the lost and forgotten,

    the broken and the marred.

    That is what Christ did for us.

    Although it is not something

    we accomplish by our own strength,

    he graciously enables us

    through his Spirit

    to take part in the redemption

    of all creation.

    We live in the already-but-not-yet,

    but God’s Kingdom is coming,

    and the Body of Christ is the vessel

    that will usher in a new era.

    Our actions become prophetic utterance,

    reflecting, enacting, anticipating the second, final

    coming of our Lord

    to rule the world.