Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Two new poems from this week...

A Sunday Sacrilege
April 26, 2015

In my heart resides a rage;
something dreadful to contain.
I stand upon a precipice
prepared to burst and explode.
There is a violence in my soul
that wants to master and control,
to wreak indignation on
someone I don’t even know—
on someone who, if I had passed
him in the street would stay unknown.
I am a man of peace who wages war;
who wants to embrace the foe,
drawing near to one afar
with fingers interlocked around his throat.
Who is this savage who stares at me
eyes rimmed-red from a darkened glass?
Whose mouth is this: a tight-lipped
line of crimson slashed across
such a terrible face? Lord
God have mercy on my soul.
Christ have mercy on my soul.
Lord have mercy—for I can’t.

Mourning Rain
April 27, 2015

Yesterday morning I found a full-
feathered mourning dove chick
and saved her from my cats. She spent
the day within my side-screened porch
protected from fang and claw.
That evening I returned her to
a high branch in a tree.
But in the night came a storm
and in the morning she was gone;
no stray feathers beneath the tree,
no Cheshire grins from my cats.
Perhaps she’s found in morning rain.

Monday, April 13, 2015

For My Daughters Wherever They May Be

Look for the beauty where it may be found.
Reject while you can the horror and hate.
Search the dark to find the peace that lies
hidden underneath all hurt and pain. 
Grasp and hold the love that holds you now, 
even though you cannot fully know 
the One who holds you ever close. All 
things transcend and converge within.

Close your eyes and hear the song written
from the dawning of Creation's first
day. From dark and chaotic dreams
the prelude can be clearly heard: redemptive
chords composed even in the night.
Paradox and mystery are placed
within your hands: a melody for you 
to play, so together we will sing.

I will do what it takes to help
you know His love for you. In spite of all 
that seems to mitigate and deny,
the song will still be played and sung even
if it takes my dying breath, if death
tries to intervene I will stay
true to the song God breathed within: this heart-
song that refuses to be mute.

(Written in Kharkov, Ukraine in June 2014)