House of Prayer

Muted voices
not allowed to
cry out; hushed
up to honor
order--we repent.

Field

It is the first week of July
and the June bugs know their
numbered days are moving inevitably toward oblivion

I spread my sarong on Bermuda
wet with early evening dew
and because I do they swarm
their floundering amber bodies around
me

Wing chased wind the air sits
a few feet from a tall sodium
safety light.

With the summer insects I feel
a closing approach from the West
and then from the East so that a single
light is the focus of the whole world.

Afternoon thoughts

Tonight as the sky formed and shifted
around thunder heads crossing the river 20
miles away a bit west and north of here,

the trees formed the green of my thoughts,
and I found a blue, lovely and deep like
the words I search for even now.

The spotted paint horses hang low
and smooth in my mind staged
in the pale pasture with trees behind.

I am lost. I want to be in the dark brown
sheen of the animals and the quiet of their eating.

The stallion is taller than the rest, and I feel tired
to think of his strength.

Then I finally see it; a rainbow hangs over the southeast.
I can see where both ends met the horizon
and now the wind
and now the slow drops to wash, refresh,
and make new my ragged hope.

mango, pomegranate, guava, star

The grief and joy of Presence
is an exotic fruit I have just
discovered in my hand as
I sit weeping in the Thodapuza
courtyard; all my brightly
colored sisters sing just yards
away through a concrete
wall, over a river of shoes.

It is the song in my mouth
as I surface in the lagoon
near Naweni Koro
Praise God from whom all blessings flow...

It is the unprecedented
snowstorm howling gray
and brown over the
weh guken hahkyo in Pyongtaek;
I shoot a video; breathless giggles.

It is the sensation of the rise
and fall in Phuket's waves
and later in my dreams.

It is the sari dripping down
from my head and playing
around my feet; I hold a
little brown hand and hope.

It is this moment: my friends
have gathered around; a soft brown
dog sleeps under the table;
the Word is open and speaks all of us
into the Presence of God.

Irresistible

The moon is pasted over in cloud tonight--
my thoughts crouch behind avoiding notice,
secretly hoping to be presented
brought out of hiding with upturned hand--

but wait, it is patience's cue;
she must come first; must always come before;
she and prayer must lead the way into the irresistible.

Dear James

Your death did not make the headlines
but it's all we can talk about here.

Yours was not a single death because death never is single
Layers of people, roles, regrets and sorrow always mix about and crisscross.

Today, when we met with God together, I couldn't say
that we wished you were back with us because then I would
have wept beyond what is reasonable.

I don't know exactly how it's done, this shared suffering, this shouldered up burden but it's here among us and our understanding and our prayers and our lives.

Our praise for your life remains--I want to stretch that praise into a covering, a banner
over your wife and children, over your mother, your sister and brother. It would be a red doorpost, the red scarf of Jericho, the brilliant wedding canopy, and the Passover which is all our hope.

Vaya Com Dios

today the clouds came in and staged a Monet right in front of my eyes
sprawling bungalows, tile roofs
palms and purple majesty
big sky, tall green hills

and for a moment I realized how complete God is in the follow-through
how each detail knows it's position and cue
how the trees and shrubs looks so green against the clouds stacked on each other
how the wind knows just so to move the hammock
how the sun lines up behind "Edgar" every morning on the Barra beach next to the seaside dive and shrimp and rice and sucre de limon.

Thoughts from the casket

It's always cold on Easter in Mississippi,
and I felt it all the way through this morning's run.

Afterward, I swaddled myself in a blanket and let the strong sun hit my face and
the unopened Bible on my lap.

Sometimes that's all I can do when the whirlwind steals my breath,
and the fire crisps my lips. Sometimes all I can do is listen and think;
squeeze my grave cloth wrapped body into the cleft and hide.

I feel like dying because I'm dead and sloughing off as Christ,
who laid aside His grave clothes, lives for me.

So as I run and my grave clothes flap back in my face like a flag or a banner,
I pretend they are really Christ's standard signaling that He is in the lead.

Such a bittersweet day

this morning began cool with a steady climb to the mid-80's
and I talked a little with Jesus while I pulled the sheet closer

when I reached the entrance to the stairwell, the sweet grapesicle holly trees
ran a river scent trail that stopped me

mid-morning frustration--patronization
I wondered why I was called
why I had to be the one who made nice; who gave a fair chance

I picked a holly branch filled with lime green buds and deep green leaves
I looked closely to see the drops of sweet grapesicle
the station bridge road; the grain mill
how many times did I pass that place and stop to smell more deeply the grape candy scent

I was afraid of tonight; afraid of the awkward moments
afraid that my too nice would not hide my too nervous

Then God dipped into and poured over cupped handfulls: laughter sweet and rich like grapesicle and the bright moon from the Walmart parking lot.

to not embarrass you

I've been sitting at my desk working on things that suck me dry.

I want to do great things.
I want to do good things.
I just don't want to embarrass you.

I have the chance to be burnished brass or crude;
to be washed away by the culture and the flesh; the pride of life my decision-maker.

I want to do great things.
I want to love big and long.
I want my life to stretch out in beauty like the morning sky.
I just don't want to embarrass you.

I have the chance to be soothing song or brash;
to be carried along by the lust of the eyes; the carnival show my entertainment and distraction.

I want to do great things.
I want to glory small.
I want to see my life stretch out in moments of redemption.
I just don't want to embarrass you.

I have the chance to be transparent,
to relax in my own skin, the quiet, gentle, unbothered spirit.
I have the chance to lead others
into the unconditional love of God, but I have to go first.