Blue and Purple Hues

Words were always this. Color-drunk waves
Raining, Rolling
Through air breath and sky
Capture a glance of passerby
In wild winged
wonderful flight.

They stole warmth above the tundra,
Tore triumph from ungiving hills,
Danced through darkness in the cavern,
In heavy wood whispered faithfully still.

But wait, soft. heavy worth
trustful eye'd watching for sound

of bell-strung verse

once more, to ring.

echo reaching
beyond the tyrant sea
to receive heart
(a harbor)
peaceful.
singing quietly.
like deep sea diving.
words rang, there they came
to rest and wander
find meaning.

These - a dream were these?

Waves to sandy beach, greeting me--

laughing raspberry and olive green?

Blue and purple hues

this is the song I never wrote

Landed. With soft thunder
on the cushion of snow and countryside.
It washes with its whiteness, with cold brightness
Words that were muddy, experience unguided.
I sleep,
listen.

Look.

Wait.



Til stress’ yoke is fully broke.
And melted snowflakes roll
down my cheeks.
When heart begins to thaw
it aches.

But Joy remakes.
And Christmas' wished for prayer
for peace quickly is brought to bear.
We rest not alone, but in presence Divine
whereupon muted lips and closed eye
Glory intimate and beautiful shines.

for the Ποιμην

“Peter”

by Madeleine L'Engle

Lord I love you.
I have tried to feed your sheep.
Shepherds have a lonely job.

I have gone out searching for you
into the tumult of the midnight sky –
the swirling life of stars too many to count,
and have been deafened
by the rush of the wind.
And now you ask me to look within,
away from the vast and echoing sound without.

So I go down and in,
into the deepest, narrowest,
darkest, most brilliant
places of the heart.
I am battered by its beat
throbbing in my veins,
tension, release.
In the small space
between the beats,
the rhythm is yours, not mine,
yours is its time
to keep me here, in time,
in, deeper, deeper,
to the beating of my heart,

So I end where I began
and once again I start
to learn that my disgrace
is ripped, is torn apart,
and mended by your grace.

Sunday Morning

Sunday morning praises

voices, to God, are raising.
On earth the Holy Spirit amidst
the weak and lowly
blazes!
That with a joyful shout,
exiles might be embraced
transcendence bows down and
profoundly breaks
power of blindness, fear,
all that isolates
God has replaced
doubt with heaven's door:
a Savior, Lamb, and Lord.

pressing in

peace in clement pieces scattered 'cross the sky
like stardust, making way to heart,
through eyes.
peace poured proliferant in place brimful of prayer
soul bent, aching deep,
desire heavenward.
peace - golden burden gained on heart, mind and hand
living portion reverent glimpse
trace of promised land.

paper-writing prayer

right now you are, dear poetry,
the only tune i care to sing
anesthetizing other things in me.
although i need to write and think
profound thoughts with profound beauty--
you don't mind my bad grammar
or vocabulary,
as long as truth and meaning
are made visible through thee.
grant me more grace, God,
and make my prose a poetic offering!

communicate

Stirred if I am inside but not outwardly

expressing soul impressions, will wind still

bear sweet message one was born to blaze?

Or is it only just to join tongue and lung and breath

to air: red splash on blue water sail

rising on amber wing of sun.

Speaking of,

can a dream live amidst earth and dust

and will one day words link up revealing

a radiant jigsaw castle between us?

Maybe I could wait 'til words bend down

meeting, lowly, my own - unwilling to come out,

nor cry out, in the darkness, blind, careless,

or rash; hoping for the best.

Yet for hope's sake a word I'll cast

like water's bread remaining faithful to

the light and truth of bridges,

I believe from eternity are built.

nap sonnet

this poem is dedicated to naps everywhere.

I almost wrote you an ode
but what I really mean to say is, 'hello!'
(I guess I got confused -
like the time I said "chillow.")*
Because when sleep is lessened
thanks to a three hour time change
you alone can come to my rescue
making busy days more restful.
So I finally learned your value
forgotten since I was about two
because everyday this week
you've given me what I need!


*on a trip to nyc my sis & i got into an awkward conversation with a bellman who invited himself to our thanksgiving dinner. when he offered to bring a chair or a pillow to sit on, i responded, a few seconds later, with: yeah, just bring a chillow! to say the least it didn't help the awkwardness of the situation, but to say the most, i think he thought i was making a joke so he laughed. yeah, thats exactly what i intended to do.

Hebrews 4:15-16

There is no healing

apart from the holiness of God.
nor hope,
apart from His mercy.
nor love,
apart from His friendship.
nor salvation,
apart from His blood.
Rejoice!
for He is not far from you!
He is not alien
to your humanity
nor to your infirmity.
~
For we do not have a high priest
who is unable to empathize
with our weaknesses,
but we have one who
has been tempted
in every way, just as we are—
yet he did not sin.
Let us then with confidence
draw near to the throne of grace,
that we may receive mercy
and find grace to help
in time of need.

brief exodus

beauty bore the day when november rain waited
behind breathtaking clouds that separated pain
from sky like the red sea - upon us daylight streams
plundering men's faces from sadness and grayness.
and for reasons not fully understood comes
grieving & sorrow for hurts and wrongs i've done
and though seeking to cease, tearful do.
yet thankful songs from the inside also raise
thundering, lightning, darkness-breaking, praise.

Love.

agape
phileo
eros
affectio
charity
storge
all that i know
can be summed up in
some haunting feeling
unletting of me
to go. not because of control.
'cause i fell into an ocean and walking
steps feel so easy.
yet fearful - like a haunting.
what sort of thing does this?
cartwheeling through life
and i'm upside down crying
for the reasons.
but love
like a jewel is not forthcoming
but like miracles,
exists
with God~
Who makes us right side up
turning turvy straight unto Himself
souls learning death
in order to know love
and therefore live
by only one profound meeting
a Lord upon a Tree
even he'll see
what scattered love-pieces
when freedom giving
and receiving
have meant
to me.
O Lord, how i
need
trust
long for
& love
Thee.

frustrated poet

under a tree under quiet careful i waited
when words like birds stirred above my head
'til they trembled and fell, as leaf-stars landing
a multitude, still & solid, but unwilling to be held.
i watched them lay tenderly, delicate rustling like
old friends take delight in small intimate gathering
each one bursting with joy and heartfelt expression
they colored unheard-of glories upon the black dirt
like love stories paint pages beneath its black ink.
But then the air sighed - with wind's heavy breath -
& stars and spirit split leaving barely a glimpse.
fierce and uncontrolled, wild beauty of a dance
blown as birds away, swiftly romanced.
and i wanted my word-stars
obediently to stay
that another sad sitting
perhaps gray unbelieving
might too be raised up, from black
dirt to know color, Spirit, life and birth.

*I have no idea why this poem is in the shape of a cup. It was an accident actually that i sort of just, went with!

winter's heart

Love draws what is far-off, near.
'Cross fresh and frosty furlong --
stilling the wild desert winds
and abruptly waking
Blue eyes to Blue Bright reality.
Its coolness stung my cheek,
bitterSweet rose bruise,
making me (dumb) to sing!
song sprang! like sparkles --
Light dancing over fields of snow.

Think

coffee and tea
blue and red seats.
walls hold history --
economics and philosophy
kierkegaard, freud, & neitzsche
but warmth doesn't run deep
til we're buried in theology.

wireless and beer
moments stretched broad to fill
3 short years.
thoughts, memories,
drama or a midday dream.
friday nights spent laughing
attempting studying
perhaps in need of showering
post ultimate frisbee.

sunday gazes, journal pages
passing buses, umbrellas, faces.
windows providing blue sky glimpses
a siren whisper making mind
reminiscent of mysterious shoreline
salt wind kisses.

music and writing
revelation and struggling
friendship's and love's conversation
that strengthen vision
mingling with psychological or real
caffeine addiction.

we're growing. and one
by one they're disappearing
i wait, time biding, unwanting
to be anywhere but quietly here
for at my edges an ache
for the history, philosophy,
economy and theology
of intimacy is ebbing.
tracing the beauty of a well-trod space
where we came to know one another
under common grace.

introvert

rediscovering time moment-style
in this beloved place of awkward silence
slow and warm gather waves of quiet
more real than a blanket
around me tight
unraveling gnarled grasp
of world & words' clutching disease,
from the edges of my being.
and i hear: heart rhythms hiccup become steadfast
awakened with space like morning light;
and drawn by prayer's trusted hand
brokenness healed in the presence of God.

the tenant

Abiding in this space unseen cut with diamond gravity

I breathe.
Infant-blink, cautiously discovering existence
past death's brutal blow and sting.
Destruction wavers upon consummation
unsettling all my buried pieces
hurt-made shy to waking
in dim, compassionate light.
Barrenness bloomed in holy hibernation,
hanging up hearts burden on midnight stars
set free from worldly fairytales.

A listless wanderer lingers near
But brokenness and love left locked the door.
Grief’s house cannot be plundered, presumed vacant
I am drinking in its beauty; for I am its tenant,
supping with the patient Lord of silent sadness.
I nestle to his side near coldening smoldering fire
Eyes mesmerized goodbying dying embers dancing.

to the pure

what reasons are for the holding of
a virtue in ones fist
one grasp gentle, the other fierce
squeezing to bring drops that run
from heaven to lips...
the world hates this–
beyond my eyes and sometimes frightens
when it I also find in dearly beloveds’ heart,
but that I might know the mind of Christ
I cry, reach out for this realer part
praying friendship with its healing art.
let it cleanse my soul from fallacious game
that takes prisoners for others or selfish gain,
for when virtue reigns from palm to sight
in spite of blindness, death - there opens wide
a narrow gate underneath
world’s brazen face, boisterous barren tease,
where dew collects on fairies’ backs --
and joy blooms truth fruit ‘bout our heads
where trees of fields clap golden hands
and angels of God gather to crown
humble heroes with loving glances.
still there comes due time
for virtue’s flower to fade, like all flesh,
deemed worthless beauty, pass away,
on earth she'll gain no accolade.
and death it seemed only ever tasting
fool's paradox - and God's - embracing
to know love everlasting.

Holy Spirit

You arrive, arise – in spite of world’s dust and grime

Your face shines.
revealing all brown blurriness to be
what it is really, smudge on a child’s cheek
without capacity to extinguish life’s
fire, joy and spring.
And I know that there is truth buried here,
there is more than meets these tired eyes
that wrestle long against tireless lies.
What is beyond –
this hour this page,
strife that threatens to wear life away?
Will there be a song to strip off cold care-less grave
sung by the One with whom sorrow did deeply acquaint,
that impoverished soul ad-hearing, in a moment -
becomes a saint?
love becomes thy refuge, faith the only road for
straggling prodigals making way to the Father's home.
i hold on in spite of what most will not want to understand
I can hold on to nothing but God.

meditation

Psalm 71:20

You who have made me see many troubles and calamities
will revive me again;
from the depths of the earth
you will bring me up again.

Psalm 42:8

By day the LORD commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.

Psalm 57:1

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
till the storms of destruction pass by.

Isaiah 53:4-5

Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.

1 Corinthians 13:8

Love never fails.

Summer is a seasoned time – radiating promise’s glance

Off of sea and stone. Catching a child’s eye and mine
Winking back to the smile sun brings to souls.
The clean smell fresh of prairie or water wind running
Through hair and seemingly even skin makes me remember
Moments love-ful and real, grace-changed past, and presently.
Now I stand on the curve of fall’s dawn waiting for the
Aged graceful entrance into the earth and me,
Red and yellow paintbrushes announce the end of things –
But not finality – for which I hold it dear.
Giving way to winter’s white embrace lacing crystals
from heaven to dirt, strings of cold beautiful wonder
To cover and cleanse world’s brown death like a wedding dress
Changing a bride (who too once buried dead words and works)
Into Glory’s reflection, pure, bright; eyes trusting toward
new life – Spring.




ejb

to be revealed

creation whispers creation comes

into your heart as it rests in your hand.

handle her with care, for she is like us:

needing to be seen

touched experienced

loved.

all day long she hums an ancient song
threading in her garment the scarlet truth
for the holding. the healing
of divison over what is real.
always for the reminding of fallen

fragile would-be forgiven

flesh and soul.

reflecting grace

All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth unto such as keep his covenant and his testimonies. For Thy name's sake, O Lord, pardon my iniquity for it is great. What man is he that feareth the Lord? him shall He teach in the way He shall choose. His soul shall dwell at ease; and his seed shall inherit the earth. The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him; and He will show them His covenant.

Psalm 25:10-14

Reflection...

All, not some.

little song

grace comes in dew form
on the dusty road of sorrow
my eyes had failed when seeking God
but mercy arose that very hour
to revive a little flower.

ejb

loving my neighbor

we are, by nature,
exceedingly sinful, fallen.
A band of broken things
with sharp edges
certain failures at what
we ought to be.
When i look at you, and you look at me
i wonder if we might ever
hold the other gently? while
imperfection most faithfully guides
us straight into
the arms of Christ.
In Him we'll crucify expectations and lies - pride
that demands you not cut me nor i
ever hurt you.
Our foolishness and manifold mistakes
are like a child falling a thousand times.
That little one is you, another is me
shall we burden each other overly?
When forgiveness to our own hearts
is supplied so readily?
...perhaps if i didn't hold on to such an ideal
i could finally love what is real.


ejb

choice

“Choose life,” God says. “Choose life.”
“Bathe in waters deep and gold
Wash; Drink your thirsty fill,” I am told.
“Choose life,” they say- they do not know
What friend to me death has been, although
Perhaps more truly a faithful foe.
Yet faithful– an out I felt alway
If ever I had to stop the pain.

"Cast it out, child, don't be so sad -

No more despair before your God.
Who in fearful mercy extends all day
Nail-scarred hands to proud ingrates!
A Shepherd awaits you just at your side
A healing refuge in whom to abide,
If only you turn from self-exile."
I hear thee, Lord, draw me nigh.

Now, if inconstant prove I to be
No longer will I hide beneath
clouds of obscurity.

Let me dance ~
like David through the pain,

Lifting heart, mind, and arms to praise:
God’s glory be this temple’s plane.
I’ll paint on canvases of air
Love’s great riches, His Holy care
Each finite motion, decided action
Be sword and solace: holy reflection
Of the one true Lord’s Great Decision.
Arms uplifted, gentle wrists,
Feet secure while body twists,
Leap and land --- you’re at the edge
Of something waiting to begin.
Breath of heaven pray thee I’d find
And in this earthly flight entwine.
Be ready in brightness Gospel grace
For many still need this dance’s embrace.

note... I wrote this one out of the experience of dance as healing for depression.

ejb

Looking for a way to forge a path

New untrodden, cutting down weeds
pushing aside branches.
A path that touches the deep
down freshness of things* called
Life. Life unartificial not
paved, painted - primped or "put-together" -
but the truth in which an ocean
of Love abides. I would dive
into it if I found it.
Little trickles tempt my pallette
so that I can say - I have tasted its goodness.
Of its Reality and my heart turns
toward that eternal country: not here.
I do not know if they love - those
who do not understand the way I want to run.
Laughing at my impulse to change, create,
but saying they always knew I would
if I succeed. But if I fail- their love
lies hidden, masked, undefined.
And I am alone again, remembering
the hidden country.
Forging my way there, calling out these
little cries that Another does hear
and watching for that trickle - a voice rather,
Presence, truly - who in my
darkness, draws near.


ejb

*G.M. Hopkins reference

metanoia

Μετανοια.

Grieve not – heart – for things that may not pass rather grieve
Cry out and mourn for all that has.
Allow thy deep-seated tears, fears, to flood Jesus’ feet
Those lies that you believed – words which you could not help but scream
When the seams of what you wanted burst and you began to bleed.
Grieve then, for then you may come to feel
Your own skin around you your own heart beating, still,
When death thought it had taken all and watched your fall
Your burst-self went to face its God.
And found in its despair Christ’s tears, fears, and blood for thee
Your self gathered in his arms, forgiven, cleansed and free.


ejb

C.S. Lewis

Nearly they stood who fall.
Themselves, when they look back
see always in the track
One torturing spot where all
By a possible quick swerve
Of will yet unenslaved--
By the infinitesimal twitching of a nerve--
Might have been saved.
Nearly they fell who stand.
These with cold after-fear
Look back and note how near
They grazed the Siren's land
Wondering to think that fate
By threads so spidery-fine
The choice of ways so small, the event so great
Should thus entwine.
Therefore I sometimes fear
Lest oldest fears prove true
Lest, when no bugle blew
My mort, when skies looked clear
I may have stepped one hair's
Breadth past the hair-breadth bourn
Which, being once crossed forever unawares
Forbids return.

~C.S. Lewis, Poems, "Nearly They Stood" (1933)

Poetry

Hello world of google bloggers. I must say that this is my first time writing here and am happy to begin! I love poetry and am thinking that this will be a place where I will post my own. But for now, one of my favorite poets will do.







"Peace"
by Gerard Manley Hopkins

When will you ever, Peace, wild wooddove, shy wings shut,
Your round me roaming end, and under be my boughs?
When, when, Peace, will you, Peace? I'll not play hypocrite
To my own heart: I yield you do come sometimes; but
That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows
Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?

O surely, reaving Peace, my Lord should leave in lieu
Some good! And so he does leave Patience exquisite,
That plumes to Peace thereafter. And when Peace here does house
He comes with work to do, he does not come to coo,
He comes to brood and sit.