Psalm 121:2

("My Help Comes from the Lord")

A carpet of golden
yellow, a spiritual journey sown by the
breath of the Creator’s
hand Himself, and there
I behold the faintest outlines of
a path, and ginkgo
petals beckon to cushion
the soles of my feet – and to assuage
any underlying fears and
autumnal doubts of where
I am, and where
righteousness leads.

Tabernacle Sanctuary Lamp

You are alive, you flutter,
your flicker’s dance speaks in a
language of no other.
What moves your flame?
It appears some vesper is alighting
your wick like a dove
from the treetops of heaven.
There is no darkness
which surpasses
your red glow. There is
no dictionary to describe the
incomprehensible
meaning of your hope.

Saving Mercy

O Lord, “create in me
a clean heart” and wash the soiled
memories and reasonings
from the murals to which I cling.^*
“Leadeth me beside the
still waters,” wherefrom Your Love can
bathe my soul in Beauty.^**
O Lord, “create in me
a clean heart,” and I, in surety, can in
Your sheepfold rest in peace,
dipping my gourd into
Your living spring, eternally
slaking what before
could not be relieved.^***

Sandra Elizabeth Daylily

(“Do Not Be Afraid, Mary,
You Have Found Favor with God”) *

Ah, I have
glimpsed you, before
overnight you
disappear into the
hill country of
Judea, as if
your essence could
ever possibly
be ephemeral,
as if your beauty and
the fruit of your
womb, Jesus, could
ever fear!

Sisters

(“Lord, Don’t You Care That My Sister
Has Left Me to Do All the Work by Myself?”) *

O’, bumblebee,
engrossed and enveloped
as you are,
captured in this
split-second beatific
vision of the core
of Beauty, are
you like Martha,
busy and bustling,
or rather like Mary – seated
rapt in listening at
the font and foot of the
Teacher’s lips, His
words pouring forth,
pollinating and
bathing, Martha the
moments missing, Mary
them in her heart
saving…?