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…

Outside Elizabeth’s Door

(Psalm 91)

And thus they spent
The whole night
Sheltering under God’s
Sweet wings, burrowed deeply
Into His bosom, taking
Refuge in His pure
Petals from whatever the night
Demanded or would
Bring … thus glorious and
Pre-ordained, an
Hydrangea innately served
By instinct, knowing
Since the seven days of
Creation, Yahweh
Had deemed it His proxy, to be
A safe shield for bees.

The Tree of Life

It shone in gold, but
Not just typical gold, but rather
Otherworldly, ornamental,
Finest gold, relocated
From the Garden of
Eden, an earthly
Tree of Life set free
From the consequences
Of the bondage
Of Original Sin, and
Now able to renounce
Night and to proclaim
Daybreak – and to
Promise each weary soul
That hope lives and
Its green shoot glistens.

In Thanksgiving

And so this rose
Is offered thee at the behest of
The night’s mood.
It has arrived from a
Distant winter’s clime, where
Despite frost and tundra,
It has at the touch of
Truth bloomed.