Poetry
Rolling Stone
Jim walks home from his bus stop:
His Dad’s car is parked in an abandoned lot.
He thinks about his Dad a lot
And wonders why Dad forgot
To pick him up again.
Jim shoves his hands in his pockets, groans,
And kicks a stone
Down the sidewalk, toward home.
Will boyfriend leave him alone
This time?
Just another face he can’t erase.
Maybe, life’s better if you’re alone,
No one expecting you home.
He sighs and shakes his head no;
Pain still gathers on rolling stones.
Auschwitz
It’s raining death in the night
As raindrops spray
Machine gun fire on my umbrella
While puddles count the zeros
Of their bodies,
Ever expanding circles,
Too numerous to number in a lifetime
Like the fallen 6,000,000,
An estimate
Of the rain.
The lightning illuminates the murder:
The dead water,
Already fallen, soaks the ground
Full and regurgitating like saliva
In a dead man’s mouth.
The anger in my stomach thunders–
Sick with revulsion.
A guard says,
“Get in the shower.
Give me
All your clothes.”
Herded into the room, we scream
Because the spigots don’t spew water
But gas.
Dreams
I sip the morning one mouthful at a time.
The dawn is sweetest when the house
Is still, no kettle shrill
And the baby slumbers, breathing in rhyme.
I rub the sleep from the day before from my eyes.
Yesterday still hangs over me like a shadow of a dream.
The pall still pulls at my mind it seems.
You could say it’s too much drink, and I’d say that’s obscene.
Sleep’s a funny thing,
Little understood
And if only I could
Store up the hours lost in in sleeping
Oh the castle I’d build for me and my bride.
But no my dreams
Are what they are,
And I’m content to live on this side.
Slow, Slow Rain
There is a slow, slow rain
Falling in the night.
I hear its rushing
Wall of sound
Hushing
My mind,
Full of thoughts,
Of you.
My love, my love,
What are you dreaming of,
My love?
What occupies you?
Your thoughts?
Never you mind
Hushing
Me or ignoring the sound
Of my lips, rushing
You to forget the night
Or our slow, slow rain.
Shutting Out the Rest
She circles the table
Going round and round
As fast as she is able—
Full of song and sound.
After a spell, she leaps for my lap,
And I stoop to pick her up.
I hold her fast against my breast
Her face—hot on my chest.
I squeeze the moment tight,
Shutting out the rest.
Joy
An inner sense of Providence
Not measured in circumstance
But compelled by the Spirit’s presence,
His gift of grace as recompense,
The price, complete obedience
Without willful defiance,
Just belief without sterile evidence.
What is this?
Glory of undeserved favor
From the only faithful counselor,
Jesus, our Lord and Savior.
Down to Earth
My heart climbs the clouds to a sun-opened space.
But my way leads on a different way:
Far from the glory of the proud—
Into storms and humbled places.
Where valleys deepen doubt, require trust.
In the low places
Our eyes fall to others’ feet far from faces
To preordained spaces
Down to earth,
Where God provides on a need-to-know-basis.
The clouds are for the few, high aloft.
Perhaps, they are cursed to have so many choices.
Half Crossed
This morning’s breathtaking shock of cold
Greeted me like a friend from old.
So I layered my skin with downy clothes
And stole into my car, going west
Into the darkened pit of this morning’s night.
The light
Trailed behind
Like Truth denied.
In the rear view mirror I watched the horizon
Begin to glow rosy with light.
Clouds
Crowded
The horizon massed on the tree line
Like a fanned
Hand
Of cards bluffing the sun.
Getting a chill, I turned the car around
To go
Thinking heaven knows
The Fall is close:
The bridge half crossed
From life gained
Later to be lost,
Heaven soon obtained
At the foot of the cross.
Heart
He glimpses our heart’s fullness and less,
Its tendrils fashioned from stone to flesh
Our part: submissive belief—
Saved from death’s mortal darts:
What relief!
Miscarriage
Though it’s nearly fall,
Winter is inside me.
The baby is gone,
And I’m all alone
In the white hospital,
Waiting to go home,
Away.
I know seasons change,
And spring will come again.
I see
Dogwood trees,
In my mind,
Reminding
Me winter fades,
Like a bad dream,
Come waking time.
I know seasons change,
And spring will come again.
Blessings are disguises
Like my stomach hurts
And heart aches
Even though
I know
I’m not ready to be a mother,
Promised to another.
I know seasons change,
And spring will come again.
I’m swinging on a swing
Going
Up and down,
Up and down and up.
There is good and bad—
Good in bad,
Bad in good.
My seasons always change,
Little ones never stay the same.