Thursday, April 4, 2013

Of Fumbling Caresses...a Sonnet

God created the world out of nothing,
and as long as we are nothing, He can make
something out of us. ~Martin Luther~

Moon-crescent dangles above tree-tops where

Night’s phantom fingers strum dawn’s blushing air

Blue and pink chalice tips over the dirt

Cradle of heartache and laughter and hurt

…now the moon fades into rivers of gold

A new day is drawn from Time’s ethereal fold

We touch our step to ephemeral soil

Reach for the hour of tender-sweet toil

We cannot tell what this new day will yield

As over the swell of earth's ocean and field

Daylight expands from night’s onyx abyss

Into human hands of fumbling caress

The unknown ripples; life-waves on earth’s dust

So I reach for the Fingers of One I can trust

Beneath the Diguise of Moments

It is not the present immediacy

Of my pondered yes or no

But the shaping of whom you are going to be

That tries my answer so

For in the gathered quick replies

The bud of recompense

Will not remain ‘neath time’s disguise

Of certain consequence

The weight of love’s compassion

Surges full inside of me

For our transient yes-no-moments

Shape the person we will be

Sometimes its so easy to just say 'yes, yes, yes,' because at the Time its the easy non-confrontational fix...but this morning I caught myself suddenly pondering a request not because of any harm it would do now, but in how its shapes one's thinking pattern and may numb our discernment twixt wisdom and knowledge of choice and accountability.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

On the Outside Looking In...

(on one side of the window the beauty of duty; on the other, desire)

The quote below struck me again with quickening force as I gazed to the out-doors while spring-cleaning my kitchen...

“I believe in the immortality of the soul because I have within me immortal longings”

Helen Keller quotes

Sometimes standing on the outside looking in

Is enough for me

And I let the river of season-beauty

Wash its significance rampantly

Over parts of me that have not yet learned

To inhale then relinquish what cannot be returned

The limb outside my window

Burgeons with the budded croon

And nucleus of summer

Where its dappled shadow-swoon

Will rivet me; awed spectator

Twixt the beauty and the bliss

Spell-bound by the Creator

Of life’s little moment-kiss

And suddenly the outside

Is a robe of searing pain

I am a lonely beggar

Cold and hungry in the rain

As I yearn for the inside

Reaching for the mystic heart

Of something, keen, immortal

Of which earth can have no part

Contemplating...Him

How is it that You do not give

As You receive from us?

But gently You bestow Your best

As You impart Your love

In myriad deployment

Above, around, beneath,

Our mouths bulge with enjoyment

Of goodness you bequeath

How is it You do not withhold

As we withhold from You

But mercy spills from heaven-rills

As gentle as the dew

It sparkles where, heedless we rush

As You supply our need

We stuff our faces while we crush

Your whisper with our greed

How is it You do not despise

This thankless, wretched race?

You do not turn away your eyes

But still extend Your grace

Where we, in blind possession

Inhale, exhale Your love

As You make intercession

In kind visage from above

He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.
Ps. 103:10

Earlier this morning the ground was a dazzling sweep of frost-diamond splendor. Gorgeous! The dawn breathed blush pink before deepening into a rich coral prelude to glorious sunshine.

Contemplating...You

Poetics Aside PAD: For today’s prompt, write a tentative poem. The poem could be about a tentative date, a tentative person, a tentative situation. The narrator could be tentative. The subject could be tentative.

Hearts are not flowers pressed between pages

This flesh-blood appendage of life

Suffers obscurely wild passion that rages

In conflict, in wonder, in strife

I cannot give you with reckless abandon

Blood-petals composing its sphere

But consider first with firm contemplation

Your whisper caressing my ear

Why is it that echoes evoke a keen hunger

For more than the hull of your sigh?

And why does the tenure of yesterday’s laughter

Feel now like an endless goodbye?

Wisdom and knowledge divide the heart’s choosing

The mind knows what life has made known

But somehow when you press your lips to my musing

My heart has a mind of its own

I cannot mute mortal need and desire

Though mind may employ its staid part

It cannot guard with barracks of fire

The thought of you stealing my heart

Love's Masterpiece

The snowflakes glittered like golden grace-gems in the rising sun...

From ether-fount of hope

His faithful mercy streams

As out beyond the eastern slope

A new day gently gleams

The shroud of night’s release

Is tendered to its tomb

Look up; behold Love’s masterpiece

Gilding earth’s living-room

No, our God is not dead

His love prolongs His grace

Compassion gently weaves its thread

To earth from outer space

Take courage, brother, friend

Beneath our erring touch

Oh, see His kind goodness extend

From heaven’s aureate brush

...and from hope's astral door

Night's shadow is impaled

As sacred salutations pour

A new day is unveiled

But I will sing of your strength, in the morning I will sing of your love; for you are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble. Psalms 59:16

Look up, see the radiant Light erase

the darkened void

Be overjoyed

'Tis no small thing; another day of grace

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

You and Me

For all the generations past

Or waiting yet to be

You will be the only you

And me the only me

Then we should try to be our best

For there will never be

In all the people of the world

Another you or me

Visage and Surrender

Again and again

You show Your love

Oh God, help me to see it