Category Archives: Devotional Poetry

winter blues

The winter blues are a fine color,the color of Charlie Parker and the sky,the sound of fresh snow coming downto tuck in the soul for rest, or maybe dreaming.

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Before the Angels Appeared

That dayLike all daysThere was the sound of the creek in the lower corner of the field,The tempo of the hooves, growing fasterWith the slope of the hill,The susurrus of wool and flesh,Accompanied by the chirp of the sunbird,And the … Continue reading

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Bethlehem

Actually, there is a starover your housetonight. Several. Some of themare 10 billion years old. (One was born todaybut it was on the other end of town,behind the Genza galaxy,and is just hanging quietly with its parent cloud,awaiting instruction.) There … Continue reading

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The Miracle

The miracle is not, of course,in the efficacy of the oil,but is the fire burning in the Temple,the fire burning eight days for the people. War, like entropy, is unremarkable,one damn thing happening over another.But in that day in Kislev,a … Continue reading

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Exist

Lately, I’ve been putting prayer on the to-do list.I know, I know: there’s something spiritually amiss about this,a lack of authentic devotionality, a careless mix-up ofthe self-help priorities. Worse, it’s sometimes sixth, or seventh on the list.Some days, I don’t … Continue reading

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The Trick

The trickis to open your handswide enoughto hold the sunrise

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Idiot Wind

Listen, he said, it’s like this.Some idiot farmer has thrown your plans into the wind, like seeds.God knows why. On the highway, 18-wheelers roar continuallyover several of your dreams.Don’t worry, the birds are cleverer than those monsters,they’ll get there, eventually, … Continue reading

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Breathe

When things go wrong, and wrong again,And disappointment sets up campUpon your spirit:Breathe. Breathe in the moment’s dampAnd heavy-laden wisdom, sent From higher places to your cell,A missive seeping to the bone.Take it in, hear it,Let prayer, that holds all … Continue reading

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The Morning Gets Her Skates On

Last night, Dawn sensedyou were having a rough one.So she laced up her boots,and stepped gingerly out onto the sky.Tottering at first, on golden legs,she breathed into the strength of her own centre,then, after sharpening her edges on the nearest … Continue reading

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Your Monday blessing: The Final Word

Crave not the final word. The Grim Reaper, it’s pretty clear,has nothing terribly important to say, after all. Meanwhile, only a drop or two~from your mouth today,might fall like seedsonto the waiting harvest,and be utterly obliterated into joy.

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