wild beauty

Blooming requires
unselfconscious
exposure. The
fearlessness
that marks the
fragility
of a flower – birthed
upon the coarse face
of an unfeeling world.
Her wilderness
is rife with hope.
She is drunk
with the life of God.

Gethsemane

One night

you walked

a rock's toss

from your friends' touch.

There, kneeling down, you knew

the weight of separation

of the loneliest.

Darkness'

cold breath.

You knelt down alone

to pray

against the inevitable.

To wait, bear

sorrow unto death:

the fear.

Threatened

with forethought

of rejection

betrayal

death

pain

you cried out!

God-willing, to obey.

The others slept heavily -

the cup remained.

You were crucified in the garden

before taken outside the gate.

Holy One

Holy One:

who holds this aching cosmos,

I hope

quietly hover

hesitatingly wonder

before your dreadful
beautiful presence

awaiting
broad white wing (Spirit!)

to sweep, gather mightily-

trembling sheep
to Christ
's deep love on earth unfolding.

Night falls
on our faces
so we close
our hoping eyes
climbing down
to give the weight
of our bodies
back to the earth
once more.
Trying not to remember
day's arduous length when
we earnestly gave the wind
wanting
compensation
for our 'labor.'
And didn't know their names
or
the inconsequential thing
they dreamed of
or needed.