“Wipe your feet!”
“Honey, we live in a hole in a rock.”
“Look, if we’re going to advance, we have to start somewhere.
We’re starting by wiping our feet before we step into our hole
in the rock.”
Home Sweet Home
nature
Sunset
Spider, Please Step Forward
You put your right foot in, and the other one, and the other one, and the other one,
and the other one, and the other one, and the other one, and the other one.
You put your right foot out, and the other one, and the other one, and the other one,
and the other one, and the other one, and the other one, and the other one.
You do the hokey pokey and you weave another web,
that’s what it’s all about.
Will the following spider please step forward.
You weave your webs
to little fanfare
blinged out with dew
in the chill morning air
but they’re the ones I see,
for invisible in space,
are the ones I walk smack into
strung all across my face.
God, did you hear?
God, did you hear the world shout?
They decided
not
to believe
in you.
Not just
a lone voice
in the desert,
but all your believers, too.
God, did you hear the world shout?
Give us
science,
that’s what we
understand.
The scientific method
will unify the nations
and bring solace and joy
to the land.
God, with all the shouting,
how can anyone hear?
How can they look
at your creation
and not believe
you are near?
God, we humans
have made such an awful mess
of what you created for us
while not believing
and wanting everything
except you
we’ve made
deadly short cuts
to our lusts.
God forgive us
and bring us
into relationship
with you.
Let us place you first
in our hearts and homes
until the world you made
is renewed.
Then I saw “a new heaven and a new earth,” for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. 2 I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
Revelations 21:1-4
Time Out
One weekend
I decided,
being of the giving kind,
to take my friend Time out,
might he need a break to unwind?
To my view he’d been working too hard,
passing everything in sight,
until night blurred into day and daytime into night.
I asked him, might he speak with his boss,
to request an extended leave?
He replied this was unlikely,
as his boss, Greenwich
was a hard taskmaster and mean.
Nonetheless, upon the issue I prevailed,
until my friend agreed
to take a two-week-sail.
For that 14 day period,
he did not once count,
though he was the only one who knew
since no functioning clocks could sound.
From that day back
and forward
Time has taken occasional rest
because even a man like time
needs to take himself out
to be his best.
I’d like to be…
i’d like to be
as strong as a tree
that grows stronger
with the wind
turning over new leaves
while learning to breath
tasting news of where the wind’s been.
my roots would wind
down
toward the earth’s middle
halting before they burned
with so deep a grasp I’d survive
though swiftly the planet might turn
then after thousands of years
and lightning and wars and men’s tears
with one limb left green
teachers would take little ones to me
to wonder
and marvel
and dream
Yes, you May.
Even though the first day of May isn’t for a few hours yet, it’s May somewhere. Here’s a poem in honor of the month.
Some folks celebrate May Day, there’s Cinco de Mayo, and don’t forget Mother’s day, but I think we should celebrate the whole month in honor of what its name signifies: permission.
Take a stroll on a sunny, windy day?
You May.
Stay up late before you hit the hay?
You May.
Pluck petulant pansy petals so more will have their way?
You May.
Get deep into Spring cleaning to get ready for Summer days?
You May.
May’s the month with a built in okay for every good thing.
It’s the correct word for misapplied cans. It’s a great time
for early sunning at the beach, be you any age woman or man.
It’s a month for pushing Winter out the door,
and putting Spring flowers to bed.
You might have your own favorite month, it’s true,
but my fave
is that month after April
and right before June
called May.
Beauty
Beauty
there you are
there
around the corner
a gift from God
for those
who seek
Tempestuous lovely
open with the sun
closed
with
the
eve
It’s a Mystery
Lord, so much baffles and confuses us,
causes consternation and pain.
Much like acid rain,
we insist on short term gain
to our detriment.
It’s our right!
and it’s a mystery.
We got really good at making,
and then at selling,
then consuming.
China was impatient
to grow too,
and so they did.
Now in their cities
they hardly ever see the sun
or blue sky,
but they’re getting so much better
at building fancy cars.
It’s their right!
and it’s a mystery
You have yours
so I’ll have mine.
Let me manifest my destiny!
Don’t get between me
and my ocean.
When did wisdom become
a dirty word,
or a stumbling block
to progress?
When did the law
and justice
become enemies,
the first for revenue,
the latter
to symbolically appease.
Might may make right,
but all fists
grow old
and lose their grip
on fortune.
It’s giants’ rights,
and it’s a mystery.
Is it just my sore knees talking
or the explosions in the news?
Why are so many
willing to kill
to express their views?
I confess to being weary
with us,
the human race,
the evil
too easy to express.
Father, help me lift up my head.
I’m not strong enough
on my own to abide,
so help me with Your Word
to find peace inside,
and believe that this all
will pass away,
and
a new earth
will replace
this way.
Lord, help us learn to build
instead of tearing down.
Help us practice solutions
and build bridges.
Let us replace Facebook rants
and political hate
with better choices
and level voices.
Let us be the men and women
we admire.
Help us to be quiet enough
to hear you speaking.
Let the mystery of
why so many harm
become the mystery
of why so many heal.
With your grace,
help us be the ones
who reveal
Your love for human-kind
through Your death
and resurrection.
Thank you Lord,
for listening.
Fog! The Poem
What’s this? I thought we already addressed fog for the weather series! Emily Anne, of http://unkilleddarlings.wordpress.com commented that she thought “there was a poem in there somewhere, waiting to be extracted.” Well, rather than listen to the muffled shouts of “let me out” by the Fog poem, I’ve decided to be merciful and do just that.
Held between hills
like water stopped up in a funnel
that low-level cloud
presents
for morning
formation
but it lacks the discipline
to hold steady for long
better at ease
than attention
It’s everywhere and nowhere
at once
a twirling mist
seeing through you just
laughing at
impregnable
barriers and borders
and motions
Stepping aside for a car
then stepping back in
like a haughty star
you might move through me now
but sister…
believe me
you’ll never see far
A field of cows
might appear half-calf
an orchard of trees
could seem
half-staff
it can define your mind
indeed
like mine
without coffee
delayed
not landing
foggy
London
and trench-
coats
foggy
from directions
all four
cast
foggy
Write here, Joel. 
