Equines

To think, lo aft all
these millennia, they still
patiently await their
Savior’s return, horses, gathered
as they are at the shoreline
of His heavenly carpet,
just as they were at
the Bethlehem stable and
amongst the crowd
of flowing, colorful robes
when Jesus whispered
the Beatitudes in
His Sermon on the Mount.
There was something
special about Him.
He listened to them, and
when He spoke, even
at ease were placed the
wildest tides. And
so now they wait…At first
they thought His
Second Coming would
be imminent, but that was
before they realized
He was not bound by simple
space and time. The
sand grains gave testament
and final clues to this –
finest granite rock
they once stood, sheer
slabs of almighty might, but now
in their humbleness,
reduced to infinitesimal
specks…content, imprinted
on the bottoms of each
horse’s hooves.

Ode to a Ginkgo’s Leaves

O yellow, sometimes e’en
gold, but with a tinge of slightest green,
undulating before my gaze,
each leaf’s changing
as the sun o’er my shoulder
leans, o you, dear leaves, doth arrest
me in my tracks, because
there is something
about your countenance,
which makes me believe you once
cradled my Savior’s
Shadow as He walked past.

Collage of The Old and the New

The Lord is my
hope and my salvation.
There is nothing I shall want.
In Him, hope springs
eternal, and hope
does not disappoint.
The Lord is my shepherd,
and, yea, e’en in the
valley of the shadow of
death I am not lost.
To whom else would I go?
“The Lord is my font,”
echoes my soul.
He is my portion and
to the brim fills my
cup. I am nourished by
His Word, and from
His Wisdom desert streams
to my thirst come.
Nothing can separate
me from the Love of the
Lord. He searches
me and knows me.
By His Cross He is my
Saving Hope – Christ Jesus,
the Only Begotten
Son of God.

Emptying

(John 2:1-11)

At the Wedding Feast of
Cana I am, traversing there in my
mind, watching, observing
all the joyous people, no longer
limited by space and time,
lingering in the background
at the periphery of all the guests,
not hoping for my stone
water jar to be filled, but rather
the intercession of the
Blessed Mother with her Son,
to have the vessel be
emptied of its useless fear
and despair.

Asking the LORD

May my prayer
appear before You as sweetest
incense, its wisps of hope
curling and cleansing
like perfume scented with
daydreams of desert
streams. May my soul be
wrapped within the refuge of
Your wings, clothed in
the hues of a sage oasis,
content like an infant
from its mother newly
weaned.