I Thirst

 

“I thirst.” and the damp settled.

And my languid arms like languid branches

Sagged beneath unwanted weight.

A cloud, a breeze would cheer

Or butterfly with bright orange wing

Would lift a smile in a moment

For a moment.  Then in dry heat

Again, it settles, wearied with that old

        Hunger. 

                I seek. 

He whispers, “Take and eat.”

Around I look and see the waving

Of singing branches, my eyes

Too full of tears for singing.

Soon this all is dust.

There, beneath my feet I feel

The forgotten cracks throughout this crust

Of earth in which I stand. A sense

Of something warm, immense--

A whisper, “Come and drink.” 

 Sink my roots more deep. He says,

“Eat and Drink. And you 

                       shall never die.”

There touches fire

That does not consume.

Revived, my branches lift and face the sun

Ah, there are those from whom I come--

One smiles, “Where your roots?”

“What you have found beneath this ground,”

One says, “cannot be truth.”

Roots deep, veins aflame, branches sweep

In breeze and sun--what shall I say?

"Come and see, that Heart

                that never lies."

A list on my thirtieth birthday

Sunsets and skylines,
Purples and greys,
Four on my fork tines,
Drizzly days,
Cheerful and tuneful--
The chirping of birds,
Mournful and wistful--
A song without words,
Leaf fall and snow fall,
Earth, grass, and bark,
Sunlight and rain fall,
Nights clear and dark,
Moonlight and starlight,
Whispering trees,
Ears hearing, eyes sight,
Knowing God sees,
Greens greys and blues,
Tea, blanket, tasty bread,
Fall colours, many hues,
Thoughts inside head,
Confession, Mass, Eucharist--
This itself completes the list.

Deism

What great gods ruled the universe in eons past?

Gods of ocean with stormy blast,

Gods of winds with winding ways--

Upon this world they roamed--or so

I'm told. I listened to the stories old

From near and distant lands and

Wondered at the way they wandered

In search of life long-lasting beyond thought.

The cunning warrior endowed with wit

By strength and skill destroyed his foes

Not Death. No. Deliverance from death

No Mortal yet knows. Not famed archers

Nor spear-men bold for dragon killing known.

Death comes. And all must pass that door

To the world beyond our understanding.

The towers fall and tragedy erases

Monuments made by vanished men.

Even gods vanish; in time are veiled

From memory like moments sharp

That soften, and slowly disappear.

New gods are wakened by our powers

But then who, we wonder, is truly God?

We invent ourselves, invert ourselves

In searching still, for simple happiness and

Lasting life rich wrought with meaning.

We tell ourselves the gods are like us

Or we, like gods invent, therefor we can

invert what's seen and unseen, mystery and

Understood, Truth and falsehood in our hands

Like uneven measures in the hands

Of that blind woman who stands, sword ready.

We think we command the sword because

The words we use and alter to suit our needs.

But their is a man who spoke:"I said

you were gods" to sarcastic non-seekers

Who truly thought they sought aright the light

Of all ages in their careful texts.

They knew they asked the correct questions

And took him to task for wrongly replying.

They chose right and wrong. They chose

For everyone, for their gods were in their heads.

They would create and demonstrate their power

Fashioning some to follow their flight to heaven.

Enlightened, knowers, believing in the gods they

Best knew, crafted in the image of themselves.

Poor moon-faced idiots, they did not realize

They but un-wholly reflected the light of

that greater Son.   

Of life and dust

Branch from a tree, green coursing with life
Stretching bright toward sunlight and rain--
Cut, sharp, sudden, shut from root,
Still holding green, bleeding life.
Dying, drying, fading fast
Sense no more sun, nothing lasts;
No more leaves whisper, no more sap moves
Cold and Dark and Damp set in.

A warmth, a light, and it consumes
Bright shines a new light giving life
No sun shines, but shines a warm light
Once more Sap boils  in short last life
All ash, the remains as day resumes.

Ash to ash, and dust to dust in life
Upon earth. Earth refined, and pours the rain
Seep in ash, and soak in, through root
Holding, coursing, bringing life.

Crazy World . . .

I saw the name of a file--"crazyworld." I opened and found a bit of nonsense that did not feel entirely like nonsense anymore . . .
Here it is:

Tweedle-de-dee, tweedle-de-dee

it's such a life of merrily

the dogs, they fly, and cats do spin

like tops upon a needle-pin.

I'm laughing, hacking like a clown

and hanging, swinging upside down.

It's the crazy life of might-have-beens

and what-if's and in-betweens.

Tweedle-de-dee, tweedle-de-dum

It's twisting away from the humdrum,

but I don't know and I can't care,

What happens there won't happen here.

I'm spinning, swirling out of focus--

It's a mad and sad and crazy circus.

The maybe's are a-gathering round

this dead old circus ground.

But none of it's real, none of it's real--

At least that's what I think, I feel

When dogs like kites, and cats like tops

and the wire sits and the grandee hops

and I'm laughing crying downside up

For I don't know where I am now

and I don't know where I'm going now.

And I don't know when or why or how.

A poem

From back at Bethel

First I just want to say, I really did see on three different days, three dead blackbirds.  The first was kind of peacefully melancholy, the second kind of sad, the third, depressing.  It was weird.  So . . .

Three Dead Crows

The first day, the rain came down and wept great tears over one
                    fallen, alone
The second day came and with it cool winds
                         over two were blown
And on the earth the second lay
  under the blue sky,
and the first not far away
   on the corner lies
The third day, the last lay stiff with no wind or tear
                       in dirt and decay.
The fourth day, I also shall disappear
                           and nothing say.

Ah! You my friends had a song to sing!
And who ever flew the way you flew!
But down to the earth is bound the wing
That once through heavens flew
Down to the earth, you who three
    once through blue sky and grey sky
and in bold despite of gravity
  soared.  But now cold death
has reminded me
how slight is the breath of humanity.

The first day came with a weeping sky
         and tears rolled off your back
The second day came with bitter winds
         that ruffled the dull and black
The third day came with only decay
        and in filth you laid and in dearth
The fourth day I shall fade away
        and never walk this earth.