I still like the word ghost even
though its no longer considered correct theological
terminology.
You old Ghost, you – hanging about
reordering my dreams and rearranging
my intuition.
Its you haunting the place when I most need
a little spectral company
Keep on, Ghost.
You hypostases, coeternal, consubstantial, you.
Keep on, I pray.
Haunt on.
“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.
sweeping the kitchen floor –
the remnants of living –
Ash Wednesday
***
rushing to work –
contemplation takes a backseat-
smudged forehead
***
scattered in the last autumn leaves –
flock of small brown sparrows take wing –
Lenten prayers
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, I turn to home.
(and also with you)
“Into this world, this demented inn, where there is absolutely no room for him at all, Christ comes, uninvited.” — Thomas Merton
*** I had every intention of writing an advent poem each day. But with the news of yet another mass shooting, this is the best I can do. Praying for the victims and for our country – and praying that we can come together as reasonable people and create gun laws for the good of our country.
A short meeting,
just the time spent in line,
she is buying two cans
of soup, off brand.
Apologizing, she counts out her pennies,
I smile and say ‘No problem-How’s your day?’
‘Oh, I’m worried about my boy.’
‘Well, boys are something to worry about.’
‘Yes, I fear he is headin’ to prison-
I caught him drinkin’ again last night
and when they catch him driving…
I worry he will follow his brother to the grave.’
As she turns to leave, I touch her arm,
‘I’ll pray for him.’
And I do-
For him
And her
And for all us sinners
Now and at the hour of our death.
(revised)
Fear Not
my footsteps, muffled in the frigid morning,
break the icy crust
of the nights snow with each step
I scatter offerings to the winged creatures
as they perch in the fragrant evergreen boughs-
with bright eyes, they watch me
as I turn to go back in the warm house,
voices are lifted in song
and the sound of wings echo in the air
his voice on the phone
sounds strong
and brave
the stem cell transplant
is scheduled
for the new year
with word
that an angel will appear
to watch over him-
fear not.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings… Luke 2:10
*** Dear friends, As my brother faces this next challenge, I ask for your prayers, good thoughts and positive energy. My prayer is that he continues to receive excellent care, continues to respond to the treatment and that he lives a long and happy life. Thank you, Kathleen
love must be spoken
apologies asked and forgiveness given
life is too short
live with no regrets
thecourseofourseasons 