“Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles?” – Matthew 7:16

God of fruits that feed and nourish,
God of dangers that puncture and cut,
light the porches of well-being;
for while you hand out treats
in places we find so hard to discover,
we seek the tricks of promises
for an easy eternity,
looking in the fields of fortune
for the harvests of fame.
Amen.

Fall Days

To return to the books of prophetic doom
seems extreme on lazy fall days such as these.

Don't worry about proper lunch companions.
The messiah will return when we are ready.

Too many ransom themselves to the futile
ways inherited from their fathers and mothers.

Honesty comes in many forms of complexity.
Be the fire that raises beauty from the ashes.

Confessing Prophecy

I said, "I have a confession to make.
I failed to do what Simon said."

She said, "Perhaps it takes one
act of disobedience before we 
can claim our inheritance."

I asked, "What practicality does a belief
have if it doesn't make a difference
in our lives?"

She answered, "Is it a belief or is it
something that should be trashed?"

I said, "I have yet to consult with
the oracle of doom and gloom as to 
what if any action is needed."

She said, "Leave prophecy for the pages
of the books taken seriously by scholars."

“The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed.” – Luke 17:20

Hidden God,
beyond the horizon,
underneath the nearest stone,
behind the turn of the earth, 
within the veins of dropped leaves;
we turn and turn again
and you spin around us with yourself;
come into our lives with things
that do not need to be observed
for our attention wanders 
and the shiny has replaced the simple.
Amen.

The Faithful Remnant

I said, "I dreamed last night 
that the troublers of conscience 
came streaming out of the woodwork."

She said, "Sometimes even the ravens 
demand attention while performing."

I asked, "How does a voice make sound
in the midst of people who are convinced
that only they know the real ways?"

She answered, "Silence is fertile ground
for mutterings to emerge."

I said, "In walking from place to place,
so many feel mysteriously unconnected
to anything that might be called human."

She sighed, "The faithful remnant may 
come and go unexpectedly but they
will be seen and heard."

Turn Circles

The holiday celebrating this and that
came and went.  The dark-eyed junco 
returned from summering in the north.   
After spending some time comparing 
the symbols of linear and circular thought
I put my notes away.  Days are passing.
Why must I cover the ground walked by
so many before me while horizons ahead 
of me wait to be fused into some greater 
picture where all turn circles in the dance?

“I AM has sent me to you.” – Exodus 3:14

God of Now and
God of Then and
God of Will Be,
who endlessly appears in the corners of our eyes,
burning,
in a bush, in a smile, in a picture and
in the alighting of a falcon in a tree;
we imagine your name in our imaginings
and find our thoughts far too narrow and small 
for pure being to settle into us in these dizzy days;
send us into the realm of corners where we dare 
to believe nothing is true and sacred and,
burning,
we may be seen rising in our finest moment of freedom.
Amen.