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.

Winter

Winter Prayer

O Lord, please close the
eyes and ears of my soul to mammon’s
every whisper and murmur.
How can I mirror Your perfect image
and likeness, if behind
my own rolled stone lies my
flesh as master?

Winter Writing

And thus, I return to my
writing, after a hiatus in autumn
lasting into winter, a soul
appearing adrift amongst the lost…
but maybe never far gone,
but rather more like Saint Paul –
restored at cold night to my
bridled, waiting horse.

Matthew 17: 1-5

"As They Looked on, a Change Came over Him"

Which
one Heaven,
which one Earth,
each’s seeming the
mirror reflection of the other,
each’s image and likeness
and raiment
transfigured as on
Mount Tabor – strikingly
white, blinding the
eyes of those who from the
waters and clouds
the voice of God
heard…

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.

Luke 5:16

"But He Would Go. . . to Lonely Places"

The things that I
Think are important, O Lord,
Vaporize the closer I
Get to Thee, like when a
Wisp of Your Breath
Brushes aside a
Few desert grains, and
Eddies a cool,
Running seep reveal.