Song of Solomon 2:1

“I Am the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the Valleys”

“I have not come to call the
righteous, but sinners to repentance,” ^*
and thus defines the essential
appeal of Jesus, His compassion and
His mercy, and why so many in
the crowds would press around Him,
clutching at His garments,
as if His words were falling
upon good soil in the heretofore
barren desert of their ears,
and multiplying in each their hearts
a Rose of Sharon – beautiful
in hope, and in purity oblivious to
mortal anxieties and fears.

Luke 17:11-19

"Where Are the Other Nine?"

“Go and let the
priests examine you,”
Jesus said, and so in fulfillment of
the Law all ten crocuses
obeyed. While enroute to the priests,
they were each made clean, but
only one crocus decided to
return and thank Jesus.
Jesus said, “There were ten
made clean; where
are the other nine?”
The only reply the lone
crocus could make was to stand
in praise, radiant amidst last
autumn’s leaves of brown,
now clothed in Easter’s
finest purple raiment,
and tho’ a Samaritan, no
longer lost but found.

Holy, Holy, Holy

Lord, You are neither male
nor female in the limited terms in which
Your human creatures can think,
but the effect of Your Being
is akin to magnificent,
sheltering wings.
You provide shade and
shadow against life’s
blistering summer heat,
and at the first signs
of cold, Your wings enfold
into walls of comfort
against suffering. Your wings
are safe refuge for Your
creatures against storms
and terrors of the night, and against
anxieties which afflict their
sanity all efforts despite. How
good You are, Lord! How
generous and unyielding the
availability of Your
mercies! How so forgiving,
even to Adam and
Eve, who ignored Your
Garden of Eden warnings!
There is naught but
calmness in the Kingdom
beneath Your wings,
where supplicants can lie
at rest, lulled by the Sanctus in
angelic praise of Your
Love and Beauty.

Contemplating the Color of His Sacrifice

Sitting here,
The solitude around me
Is not just without sound. Its
Silence is painted
In blends of blood-red,
With nail holes and a
Spear puncture
Still softly oozing the
Aftermath of my sins, lo
Two millennia now His cruel
Calvary death, and
Even further back to when
The Serpent forked
Its tongue, and
Adam and Eve were
Cast outside the walls of
Eden’s heaven.

Light and Silence

Lord, there is
No darkness too dark for
Your Light. There is
No noise too loud for
Your Silence.
There is only me,
Lord, and it is I who
Must ultimately choose
And decide…