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Category Archives: poetry
Sparrow, shopping
Browsing the shiny cellophaned produce section, soaring over fields of grain on the updraft of the bread ovens. Sealed in our tin cans, concentrated and reduced, we must be such a disappointment to you.
Pentecost: a sounding
I try to imagine the sound. They say a tornado sounds like a freight train; what would the apostles say? We each tell only of what we know. Was it the bluster of flapping canvas familiar from their days at … Continue reading
Posted in holy days, lectionary reflection, poetry, sermon preparation
Tagged Pentecost, rushing wind, storm, thunder and lightning, tornado
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Eternal
Jesus said, “And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.” Today was my son’s birth day. Small and soft, he begins to unfurl, a birthmark smeared beneath … Continue reading
Posted in lectionary reflection, poetry, sermon preparation
Tagged birth, eternal life, John 17:3
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Why you cannot hear me
Because good girls don’t make a scene; because it isn’t ladylike to swear. Because of “shriek,” “screech,” and “shrill,” the vocabulary of shame. Because strong protest is, methinks, too often twisted and turned back. Because denial tied my tongue. Because … Continue reading
Sunfall
The only sign of a seam between sea and sky, a bright, slim line; the sun falling, pooling; a slick of liquid gold.
First Peter: first thoughts
Haiku towards a reflection on the Flood and the ark as symbols of baptism: 1 Peter 3:13-22, Year A Easter 6 Children of the flood, each of us was drowned at birth, startled to breath.
Posted in lectionary reflection, poetry, sermon preparation
Tagged 1 Peter 3:13-22, ark, baptism, Flood, haiku, Holy Spirit, Noah, symbols of baptism, Year A Easter 6
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In Jesus’ Name
John 14:13-14 “I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.” What if I were to say: … Continue reading
Mother’s Day
From the side of the multipurpose metro parkway trail, a single angelus transports me: You sing some nursery nonsense as we pack away the picnic stuff; it’s time to go home. Within the forest’s shade, there is nothing to be … Continue reading
Hacked into the neural network, the viral voice of the Accuser, fiat crashing in: Deny. Gliding behind the altar: Make room, sinner. The silver pieces gleam complacently. The desert dwellers hunger and my lips are dry. I watch my own … Continue reading
Wrinkle
Stitching time back together, the threads held slack; more room for tangling and dropped stitches, repetitions overworked and undone; old patterns emerge slanted, fraying, well beloved.
over the water 