Grace

O my Lord,
You so easily peer into
my heart, winding Your way
deftly and knowingly through the darkened
corridors and staircases
and recesses of my soul –
and alas You find
me, on a slab in a drab
burial cloth, hidden
behind a hewn rock hitherto
unrolled – but just as in
the Garden of Eden when
You found Adam and Eve in leaves
aft their fall clothed, and
just as for Lazarus in
Bethany four-days aft his
death be told, You mercifully
summoned me forth,
and grace’s white raiment You
chose I wore.

Cedars

(Matthew 19, John 2)

So this is my Shepherd’s gate,
the entrance to which certainly is not
what I had anticipated — the eyelet of a
needle for a camel to impossibly
navigate! But rather have emerged
the soft colors of gold and green, caught
in the autumn light of an
end-of-afternoon, cedar dream.
And a tear washes my cheek,
overcome by the unmerited, sweet
mercy which grace in beauty has
bathed me! Thus I realize at this very
late hour, was revealed the
delicate veil which gives access to
Cana’s wedding feast and
shaded bower…

O’ Fallen Leaf

Like an unexpected
Hug you are to me, or an
Extended palm to
Grasp in blessing, but
‘Something’ good you
Definitely seem – a leaf to
Wish me goodbye,
E’en as we’ve just met and
Say our first hello,
Each in mystery passing,
Each cloaked in our
Seasonal disguise to
Face the cold.

Ode to the Bearer of the Holy Spirit

The candle you
Hold is faithful, its light immune
To being dimmed.
Awash I am
This desert night,
But from afar appears
Your face,
Carrying in your
Caress the eternal
Antidote to
My flesh’s whims.

A Woman’s Loon

A loon, appearing at first
To be injured, flopping awkwardly
In a repetitive motion to
Move. . . thankfully caught
By the camera’s eye
Of a woman, who was
Searching for what she searches
On each new tidal pull of the
Moon. . . and lo’ the loon – ’twas in
Actuality fine and not hurt –
Just preening its wings
Before liftoff to
Heaven, having received
Its final blessing on sands writ
In God’s Holy Word.