Category Archives: Poetry

My poetry. Mostly Collects

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.” – Matthew 5:8

Visible God,
surrounding us with yourself
for all to see and touch,
so many are pure in heart,
even more, pure in soul,
and yet the brutes come upon us,
once again, 
blurring our vision with their designs;
with each beat of our hearts
take their ways
and cast them into the outer fire
where the dross of disregard and danger
melts into something useful
to be used for blessing all
who desire to see you in your fullness.
Amen.

Forever Time

"In this time I could stay forever." - Wendell Berry

Sometimes the biggest victory
of the day is not to get upset
at oneself after spilling
a gallon of milk on the kitchen floor.

To take the second moment,
where God is often found hiding,
is the practiced breath of faith
in the ongoingness of time.

To stay forever there
may be a wish for all to come true.
But off we go,
into the wonder-full day.

Relief After Suffering

Too many history lessons put the people to sleep.
Better to look as if we have been awakened by dreams.

Fears will be officially gone when we lose our sense
of self that wakes us up in the morning to believe.

Standing in the Rio Grande valley mesmerized
by the blue sky coming down to meet the water,

I hope and pray to faithfully follow the call rolling
up the river to practice the great virtues with tolerance.

Sometimes relief at not having offended the other
is the best we can feel after our mutual suffering.

Promises

We hold fast to our human traditions
as if abandoning the commandments of God
is as easy as celebrating the victors 
of the latest super game given to us
by the powers-that-be crafting our lives.

Fascination will return.  The health of the family
will become a concern.  Unannounced visits
to those caught in the process of being made well
will once again unfold between neighbors.

And promises to serve each other tomorrow
will be kept even in the midst of fear and sadness.

To Be Written today

There is nothing that needs to be written today.
There is no greatest commandment to be passed along.
The book is closing on the daily reading once again.
Eloquence walked quickly out the door yesterday
holding hands with love and dancing with paradox.
All will return when the time is right on judgment day.
In the meantime, always in the meantime,
fools have always said, "There is no God," so
why worry about the absence of the divine in their talk.
We turn ourselves about trying to face the great mystery
only to stumble along and become broken vessels 
letting the light out to play on the beach as the tide comes in.

Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him. – Matthew 4:22

Holy One of the generations,
one following another
following another,
how many times must we leave each other
to follow the wrong star home
hoping it will lead us to the divine jackpot?
Call us back into ourselves
and away from all that seeks to separate
us from one to another and another;
and there, following your will,
find everything greater than
what we have always been looking for.
Amen.

Bear-Carrying

I remember her coming down the stairs
in her blue dress holding a little bear
in her arms as if parting from its softness
would somehow bring upon her
all the cares of the big world
which she sees me carry upon my shoulders
as I prepare a breakfast of a bowl of cereal
for the both of us.

Perhaps I should take up bear-carrying
in the morning and lose the frightened look
I hold upon myself as if the world is out to get me.

Everything Is on the Hook

I like how my daily poems begin fresh with nothing
and how the land cannot heal unless the king heals himself
and how people go through their day crying, Fiddle dee dee.

There are plants living here below holding clues for eternity
while shipwrecks from long ago continue to carry treasure
and all the colors of the sky at sunset bounce off the clouds.

What we seek remains hidden inside houses of our own making
where our feet endlessly climb the stairs of our childhood
searching for answers to questions not yet asked of the air.

Patience is not a virtue when the damn breaks above our lives
and the horrors begin to spill out down upon our heads
washing us clean of everything we have held close and dear.

To live with those unasked questions in the midst of seconds
ticking into nowhere and somewhere challenges those
who live as if, right now, everything is on the hook.