February 20, 2009

Isaiah 41

i know i need a frosted cornfield,
wide and quiet, empty and undefined,
with thousands of collasped ears to help me listen.
i must remain still, but there is a
devastating silence in dead woods, cracked branches;
overwhelming and stagnant, needing action.

So i know i must clean and clear,
stride through snowy wheat to fallen trees;
renewed order entering the scattered reaction.
i must move, but some movement trips, slaps,
and distracts. The limbs and leaves are beautiful,
but i lose purpose in this wind and confusion.

Then i know i need a frosted cornfield.

February 19, 2009

As the snow returns in winter,
i return to simple desires;
my wife's head upon my shoulder,
my son's hands through the back of my hair,
Your voice soft in my sleepy ears,
and a deep chair, to watch and hold,
and finally close my eyes until spring.

Day 66: Morning

Psalm 131

At the end of this day,
i will lean back on Your breast;
and i will rest. Father, i will not

ponder politic or purpose,
but my fingertips will rise and fall
like gentle breaths, softly

across Your bearded countenance.
i will bury bloodshot eyes,
rubbed red, raw, and stressed,

into the crook of Your neck.
i will run grasping hands,
opening and closing in pursuit

of affection, through the lightest
locks that fall from Your hushed head.
i will lay down in that bed

and neither toss nor turn,
as You lay a blanket over me,
renewing me with sleep.

Day 57: Evening

Isaiah 57

"And it will be said: 'Build up, build up, prepare the road! Remove the obstacles out of the way of my people.'"

Before sunrise these hours
grow in silence; without speech
and slouched into lonely basement couches.
In the dark, below the feet
of my daily love and company,
i wrestle with all that i truly need to leave.
Bitter juices in tumblers
replace sweet bowls of wheat,
grain, berries, and honey i choose not to eat.
Legal pad and a plain
white pen, chewed in jagged crooks,
blankly sitting and staring at holy books.
Minutes unspeaking,
hours alone, days without eating,
expurgate all but my feeble heart beating.
Denial is building,
to remove to prepare,
and invite Your breath to the emptiness there.

Day 31: Morning

Psalm 62 & Isaiah 30

"In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength..."
"My soul finds rest in God alone..."

Holy desire heaves itself against
the cage of my soul. O my restless,
rigid soul, which burrows and busies
itself like bees that seek a hidden home,
beneath or between the concrete
bricks that wall our small tulip garden.
The shame is that their work is exposed,
it's shallow and the product of that effort
is easily plucked out, a small twig picks
the busy hive from where it fails to stick.
If not a human weld branch then
that nest naturally would have washed
away in the elements. The fragments
already dust the pavement's cracks, as
the wind that comes and goes beyond control
has whipped through, ungluing
the last hour's industry. Seemingly Your wind
blows unjustly, for i toiled for salvation and strength,
and the blessed eats the fruit
of his labor. The cursed mills the ground
and never looks around, never sees, never can
just be; stills churns and mills even now.
i, the cursed, hurry for the value of the
extrinsic, production of the hive. While
the blessed, they find quietness inside.

Day 19: Morning

Psalm 37

"Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him..."

Be still before the LORD, o envious me,
even forceful uneasy stillness.
i would settle for that success,
like the cool promise coming on
in the ascending shine of the dawn.
perhaps this morning of quiet,
amidst the garden in shadows,
beneath the oaks dripping with midnight rain;
perhaps this dawning in devotion
is rising to my midday pain.
Worry and fear infringe on my wide open
fields of joy and peace and i must abide
with them side by side, for they have become
too entwined. So difficult to distinguish
what is fear and what is joy. When i walk
through my meadow, my movement
deprives me my discernment. But still,
the morning light is making life visible,
peace possible, You attainable.
Yes, be still, o little, busy eyes,
the LORD spreads before you in sunrise.