To Be Made Again

You made me, when mist
hung low on the mountains,
every microscopic droplet
you suspended,
encased every branch and twig,
every needle on every spruce
with crystal frost,

You made me on a night
when moon shone on sculpted
landscapes,
rounded every stone and craig
with shallow valleys
of drifted snow,

this was your promise
to the universe,
that you would shelter, shield,
and cover me to surely grow.

When I fell through the ice,
or lost your trail under
the northern lights,
or stormed from my warm cabin door
without a jacket to snowshoe
in the sweaty moonlight until I dropped
in self pity and despair,
you would be there.

I even heard your angels sing,
opened my eyes to find my table set
in the middle of wilderness
and I dead centre
in a ring of music and light.

The universe has watched,
you have kept your word,
you led me not into temptation,
you delivered me from evil,
but I searched it out,
I studied the stars,
forbidden books
in the library of constellations
of my own heart,
and found it anyway,
the Lost City,
faded myself there where only you
could find me, my tracks
erased with freezing rain,

yet still on a silent night like this,
a star of hope shines
over Bethlehem,
and I know I am found,

you will make me again.

As Long Ago In Parchments Foretold

Come, let us be civil.

The universe blazes
With flaring fliers  busy at task,

Winding symbols down,
Parables and paraphrases,

The project is over,
They served us well,

But nothing can mask
The flickering unfinished,
Not fully formed
In you and me.

Soon we will stumble
Beckoned to Bethlehem,
To the stable of prophesy,
To the child, the man,
The risen king,  another prophesy
Of his return,
 The pondering.

Prophesy

Confluence bleeds
blue electric flame
till soul and spirit
breathe the same

from harvest cutting
Sharons long stemmed rose

to midnight shining
Southern Cross

street lamps line the path
His kingdom came.

Weeds whisper
as they toss
intimations
to the wind

and rattle
dry seed pods
as if promises
from pagan gods.

I heard them rustling sigh

"Our weakest are the first
to die
first to rise again"

in floral descant to what
the dusty weed-straw
chorus said:

"Valley-lily somewhere by
is Balm in Gilead

there is a Balm
in Gilead."

Advent

Longing is a wind-blown feather,
wafted softly,
landed when disappearing
distant sails of your ship,
gulls white wings winking,
setting sun reflecting,
vanished into sea-sky folding,

Now all creation groaning,
the kingdom yearning,
throne of thrones,
empty till your returning.

How quietly first you came
to Bethlehem stable,
quietly, a candle
set the world ablaze.

Quietly by miracle amaze,
furiously craze the synagogue
police
who crucified you to their gnashing
teeth scream spittle,
wielding for God’s law implacable
His jot and His tittle.

Spoiled death and decay
by resurrection,

now you’re gone,

so much undone,

Longing, landing like a feather,
breaks the world,
lifted when I glimpse
interim, here and there,
your likeness
in your adopted children.

Quietly to Bethlehem you came,
but trumpeted with shouts of men and angels
riding clouds of glory
you said the spectacle shall be
when you return.

And who shall stand?
my longing love,
who shall presume to stand?

While Looking Up

Foment in us
Fell photons of your light
That we might walk nonplussed
Lightfully as your sons,
Bear your blinding name
Through battlefields of night,
Redeemed among your holy ones,
Delivered from star-fallen shame,
Shackles broken,
Slavery undone,
Knees new fallen,
We stammer troth,
In fealty kindled
By your Love's forgiving flame.

"All My Springs Are In Thee" Psalm 87:7

In so many deep and hidden ways,
Your one spring flows
Near the seekers cottage,
Whose thirst shall always
Be quenched.

If the source cannot be removed,
Though an enemy has tried,
Neither can the subterranean
Watering of Your fertile valleys and hills.

Forever Your thoughtful ones,
Galaxy wide,
Shall be more than satisfied,
Secretly
From its myriad
crystal flowing.

Alpha And Omega

To you for whom nothing is true,
Except that nothing is true,
Which you firmly hold to be true
Like you hold nothing else,
Shall suddenly come,
The Morning Star,
The End and the Beginning,
Now you can choose.

Or be post-modern and refuse,
Before He appears,
your fears
Beginning,
End.

Your Love

To what shall I liken your love?
Still as  silent water
Stretched in sleep beneath your trees,
Reflecting sky and forest shadows,
Filled with life, fish and water fowl,
Insect and all pond dependent life.

Nesting birds enjoy your love
From generation to generation.
Your love,
Supple as the bending reed and strong
As the weeping willow is strong,
soft as downy chicks,
Woven and soaked into the fabric
Scaffolding and soft warm flesh and skin
Of all you have made.

This one love begins and ends with you.
We are born to enter in.

Loves we have derived from your one love,
But they are false and lead to death,
An immitation that cannot sustain the part,
That offer plastic chiton and exoskeleton,
sharp edges and corners,
Stone pride, slashing hate, burning anger,
hasty sketches
For the sinusoidal,
curvacious beauty only your love has made.

Nuturing love, naturally from you,
It is who you are, making us thankful,
secure,
Who you are,
Making you vulnerable
To our twisted borrowings,
Our killing derivitives.

You chose that route,
Our love crossed you,
But you are the greater love,
Stronger than death.

We watched you rise
From our sorry grave,
Rise and rise
As your tsunami
Swept the world.

You say you will return.
In whose love
Will you find us living then?

Easter From The Far Side Of The Moon

I can read and write, but first mind is dark,
So small my God in my understanding
Among the destination stars that mark
The night sky, crowded with angels landing
And ascending in casual traffic,
Intergalactic guardians intent
On serving Him, everywhere the graphic
Cross symbol raised for those who will repent,
Enter the mysterium of power,
Resonating, irresistible love,
That word again, for this love doth flower
Galaxies from atoms, from couples, trove
Human populations whose swift wheels turn
By resurrection loves renewing burn.

Evensong

We are slain by fear of death,
Yet death died for all in Him,

In Him we rise when morning dawns.

Wind rises, falls in forests dark and thoughtful,
Evening vespers in the leaves of trees,
Singing like the sea.

A choir of voices in the stone chapel
Worship the Lord of new day,
Day that is past and tomorrow that shall come.

Be with us tonight as we sleep

Be with us tomorrow as we rise

We sing amen upon this day,
Thank-you and amen.

Tonight as we sleep,
between the alleluia and the alleluia,
fill our sleeping dreams.