Softly Light

There is a candle in the darkness,
You can see its glow,
But not the flame.

When your eyes are closed,
You know it is
Shielded gently in two hands.

Hands that shelter the singing
Tiny light,
Reflecting on a quiet face,
Eyes on your eyes,
Love answering  love.

Lips call your name
Softly saying
"Come to my gentle light,
Little one,
Come,  eyes of love,
Enter your whispered name,
Come home"

What Is Your Question?

Sometimes to find a new truth,
We must ask a new question.

Blessed Is The Human

Blessed is the human
Who does not edit
The one true story
To fit the narrative of his time.

This human is rare
And blessed
Who edits the narrative of his time
To fit the one true story.

Your Kingdom

Your kingdom is within me
A walled city.

I am the watchman pacing his beat
Upon the walls under your stars
Looking out over the silver shadow countryside
All night long.

I am the priest offering incense
Among the lighted candle prayers,
I sing in the choir and write the songs;

I am the old man on the street,
The reader sitting in the park,
The child listening to stories
By the fire.

I am the worshiper tattered and soaked
Who comes in for prayer from the rain;

I am the shoemaker and the barber,
The baker and the carpenter
The plumber, welder,
Banker and farmer.

I am the keeper,
I build on foundations you have laid.

I am the listener as I walk the streets
Or sweep them, or rake the fallen leaves,

Sometimes I see you, or hear your voice
among the people.

I am the father and the mother,
I make safe families and homes
Radiant with peace and joy for happy children;

I expect you, my king to return after a long journey.

I want my city to shine with the light
You left for us burning in it,
streetlights and windows
like the moon and stars.

Ending The Bloody Jihading

It begins like a dawn
With a terrible growing light
At the wrong time of night,
In the wrong place,
Fingers stretching
to enclose eternal space,
A breaking wave of fear
Of falling,
Surfs the world upon,
Moorings shift,
Chains and anchors,
Feel them stretch;
World is sinking,
The light is wrong,
This can't be the sun,
Hopes dying
Hopes rising,
An ancient manuscript,
yellowed parchment
cracked and broken,
Shadows casting of a cross
Beside an empty tomb,
In the spotlight of a terrible dawn,
Like the new age ending
Another age begun.

The Blinded Bride

He was away on business:
Building her a house
For them both.

He wrote whole books to her,
Man to wife,
She didn't like the endings,
She rewrote them.

He wrote love letters to her:
Male to female,
At first she was enthralled,
Then
She refused to understand.

He sent messengers:
She was offended,
She ignored or jailed them.

He is coming soon in person,
What will He do?

She talks of coming out of a closet,
Surprising him
With her same sex lover.


By Charles Van Gorkom
www.rainforestsoul.blogspot.com

By Singing

Piano on tiptoe
Combs the unruly forest
Measure by measure
Releasing the grasses,
Shuffling leaves.

Reaching
A noisy stream
It cups and cradles
Murmurs and chimes
Soothing
Among mossy rocks

Now still the water flows,
But clean and clear,
A rainforest sonata
Drop by Drop
Pure water joy
By singing
By piano song.

Healing Meditation

Is it the mountain that sanctifies the saint
Or the saint that sanctifies the mountain?

I stopped writing,
Sickness came.

Let the river flow again.
Let my body be sanctified
By the Spirit of saintliness,
My Lord return
To His temple again.

Mr. Detestable Prays

Give municipal flesh
All the Christian blood it craves
Fill its government goblets and gutters,
Make them drunk at the uncontested slaughter,
Christian lambs taken with ceremonial knives,
By simpering tolerance,  self-righteous love.

They hunger,
These counselors,
give them raw secular fantasies
To suck red marrow from,
These blind
to their own bigotry,
Let them dream their own glory,
Drooling blood
Upon the Golgotha of their silent slain.

Then open their eyes
When you come again
For an account of their lives;
If they repent,
And their anguish
Is as the anguish of your Son,
Forgive them.
Forgive them.

Jerusalem Is Mine

Jerusalem, I would gather you
As chicks under my wings,
But they would scatter you
To divide and destroy,
They would divide Jerusalem
Like they divided my vestments
Among them
As I hung dying over them
Where they nailed me bleeding
In agony
And I hung there by tatters
Of torn flesh praying for them
In excruciating pain

But I only do this once

 You presume upon divine grace,
Or despise my salvation,
 my accepting patient love,
Scoff at my promise that those
Who divide Jerusalem shall be cursed
And feel the hammer of my
Protecting love.
There is no peace and safety
For those who trouble Israel.
Though she be wayward,
She is mine.