The End Times

She readies things.
Tidying up the basement with its canned fruit
And bleach bottles and water gallons,
Wondering if there are enough beans and rice to face the on-coming days.
She always hoped that she would be
One of the chosen, the lucky ones
Who rose bodily, clothed in the washed blood –
Snatched into Heaven straight away
Not left to fend for herself with whatever demons remained.

She worried for her people, those that believed and those that didn’t.
But with the new age coming,
She just had to do what she could.
The kings of the north and south are rising
Just like the prophet said
And the moon had turned dark and bloodied just this summer.
And now the promise land was made whole-
What other portents did you need?

Surely he is the one, the one the brothers have preached about,
The one that will bring about the second coming-
He who carries the seven seals and the demons possessed-
She had heard all those stories, all those reports of the end of the age
And now it was here.

Taking the pie from the oven, nothing left to do,
she wipes the counter and washes out the sink
And sits dressed in her Sunday best
Waiting for the angel to come to call.

a resolution

Winter Field

I am somewhat at loose ends
having decided to let God be God
and stop trying to keep gravity in place-
it was so tiring after all.

So now with so much time on my hands
I have taken up sitting and thinking,
letting the world flow thru my hands
resolving itself into the distant horizon
and the flight of starlings.

It will take some time for the tension
to release in my hands and shoulders-
time enough to re-learn to hold you,
to break open my heart
and make room in the inn.

an invitation

Cardinal in the Snow

“Into this world,
this demented inn,
where there is absolutely no room for him at all,
Christ comes,
uninvited.”
— Thomas Merton

Turning off the news
(Suffering world)
I walk down the path to the waters edge
(Despairing angels weep at every fence post)
The cold wind whips the water into a froth against the gray stony bank
(Where is He in all of this?)
Autumns landscape has changed to winter
(Pray for us now)
The world, hard and cold, in its fallow season
(And at the hour of our death)
I toss pieces of bread to the small wild ducks
(Peace be with you)
As they sail away,
(and also with you)
I turn toward home.

angel of womb and wonder

Angel of Miraculous Appearance

That gestational moment,
seems we are always in it,
the fomenting of creation
for that which may be possible-
world, nature, being,
ideas, motivations, meanings-
enough to fill our waiting arms.

And now a babe-
a small being achieves that which seems impossible.
Springing into newness,
Here, Look, Hold-
an incarnation of love and spirit
worthy of worship and laughter and wonder.

We hold all of creation in our arms.

*** in honor of our new great nephew, born just this morning, 12/24/2017. Welcome to the world, KJ!

joy

Twelve Days of Angels Day Two

Joy leapt up
Like a hare in the meadow
Like a quail on the wing
Like a fish in the sea.

Joy leapt up
And ran and jumped and skipped
And fell into my lap.

Joy said
Did you see it?
A song bright as a candle.
A light sweet as a song.
A star strong as a heartbeat.

Joy leapt up
And twirled about the room
About the earth
About the sky

Joy leapt up
From a promise
From a Word
From a womb.

Joy leapt up!

— This is a poem written many years ago and I love to share it each Christmas season – may you and yours be surrounded by joy every day. K

angel of favorite coffee mugs and small gestures

Sweet face of an Angel

Just as night walks across the meadow
leaving for another sunrise,
and the stars blink and wink,
shuttering their windows,
the coffee makers light springs on
and the aroma of hazelnut fills the house,
warm as the bed where you had lain just moments before.
Small gestures-
dark and light,
coffee and cream,
warmth and comfort.
All these things, small epiphanies made manifest,
illuminating the morning hour.