Friday, May 8, 2015


And how did God in mortal frame,
Broken, bloodied, crumpled flesh,
The will that sustains each orbital,
Worlds, stars, galaxies, or particles.
One moment weakened in a creche,
Then upon the cross of our infamy,
His last breath spares us the blame.

And how did death hold him near,
Organs and organelles pulse none,
The love that sustains each love,
Loveless in Hades icy fire burns.
One moment the universe embraced,
Then into a tomb entombed remains,
The light put out with nail and spear.

And why did the gaping maw surrender,
The fire that fires all stars and loves,
The burning soul rights each equation,
Beauty and  truth, fearful in symmetry,
Emerges in this One son of a woman,
Scarred by human life and death, forever,
Humanity in Divinity in lasting splendor.

And how this longing is ever kindled,
That all ever be life unto love unto life,
Beloved, though bones and hearts break,
Sip wine, eat bread, plunge below waters,
Blood, body, burial; sacraments of salvation,
Gifts that foretaste the divine fellowship.
In joy, eyes watered; in fear, limbs trembled.


Sunday, February 15, 2015


As each day is born as auroral fires,
Cascade crimson o'er horizon's line,
And dawn's glow seeps through lids,
The world --as if rising through liquid,
In view and suddenly fully entwines,
You and I, our dreams and our desires.

As each day embarks on its own story,
Sol arises, this day lost in ashen shroud,
Machines and mitosis plot time's trails,
Our world -- affixed,  towed along rails,
Oft  inert -- though like gods endowed,
To reach and touch the realms of glory.

As each day pales as shadows overtake,
Spreading colorless paint o'er every hue,
Touch benumbed through words misspoken,
This world of loving shoots stiffens oaken,
Eschew that this love born to me and you,
Grieves that raptures' embers' cool or slake.

As each day to night's dark cedes the stage,
And lunar light hearkens howls and bays,
Limbs enfold and faces face and breathe,
The air where embrace will gently wreathe,
Covenant kiss: I will lay where you will lay,
This day, this night, into the coming age.

She is mine,
I am hers.

Monday, January 19, 2015

Greatest Good

And when my wandering wanderings end,
When my foot-stepping feet cannot turn back,
The great light has rolled over the orb's bend,
Skies don red robes they soon shed for black.

A woman somewhere, she is my very home,
And the closing of my eyes her eyes will own.

When auroral lights escape their box and beam,
My feet will seek out that very shortest route,
Returning to her, leaving the world of dream,
Renita my Grace, of this there is no doubt.

My love,
My delight,
My home.

And A Lion, And A Lamb

This the time of blindness and barbarity,
History awash in numberless pixels,
Pallid lights overtake the greater lights,
Our little greeds nourish titanic powers,
That flatten peoples in their gory axles,
Grinding in plastic wheels all  our charity.

Disciples at the feet of the angel of death,
Young warriors burn cold as wintry steel,
Neon incense to gods void of one another,
Ascent to powers that numb a bloody resolve,
Machines kill in collateral and do not feel,
The weight of the taking of the last breath.

Like the wheel of Samsara, endless returns,
On this investment in the coffers of war,
Children yet born, groomed for sacrifice,
Tomorrow,  Karma will forge new enemies,
The kin of the killed, for honor and for lore,
The fuel for  revenge that endlessly burns.

Where the voice crying in this wilderness?
Who the prophet stepping into the crossfire?
Whose the last blood, whose the last body?
Whence the cup of peace, the broken bread?
Of the digging of graves, each of us does tire!
And praying as kneeling in blood we distress.

And a Lion roars o'er the noise of battles,
And a lamb accepts the wounds we inflict,
And a hush blows over the killing fields,
And a longing for the first blossoms.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014


The days alone are long,
The nights even longer.
The miles apart are cold,
The silence, even colder.

And yet, grace there is,
She journey back to me.
Eyes probe the clouds,
They part and I will see.

The only one I love above,
All loves that fill my breast,
Renita returns, now my home,
The together where we rest.


A Path Through a Wood

A path through a wood on a cool summer's morn,
Roots inweave rock, soil branch and burrow,
Meandering, tributary endless through the loam,
Branchy tendrils to silky strands dig and comb,
In time their own, saplings and trunks harrow,
The dawning scene they suffuse as they adorn,
Our World.

Our steps obstructed, musing one fallen oak,
Secret roots uprooted, indecently bedraggled,
Like a girl child from her sheets one rainy dawn,
Then opportune mosses and clamoring shrooms,
Spawn o'er the toppled towering timber, crackled,
Metabolism fails, its substance can only stoke,
The clay.

Striding through rocky stream, where ice cleft
Endless fissures for seed, soil and wind to stuff.
And saplings pry while roots and branch tendril,
Roots worm in micro-caverns, osmose droplets.
Filament branches splinter as elements rebuff,
To triumph the splintered rock, or shrivel bereft,
Of days.

Each step reveals life: soncy sprite, mouth agape,
Limbs and fibers fan air, water, soil, rock and tree,
Metabolic sponges using and reusing the elements,
Then displays the wonder of this unfolding creation,
Resisting entropy, plumage evolves a divine melody,
With eyes to see, one can see a beauty that does drape,
Every step.

Thursday, October 9, 2014


Resplendent azure eyes  hold me dear,
Fix their gaze upon my cowing soul,
Just so, the universe gives me a home,
Aside where she rises, where she lies,
In morning rites or in midnight stroll,
Somewhere upon this rolling sphere.

Tenderly her lips crease in pleasure, 
And each feature sustains this charity,
Just so, I discover the man she esteems,
And my posture defies gravity and age,
While steps raised with childish levity,
Content to be the one she does treasure.

Bright, one soul burns in singular mercy,
And yet a wideness in that grace exists,
Just so, I the shore this tide moves t'ward,
Lay myself down in  healing foaming surf,
Far from touch, yet affection does persist,
In hearts at once, sorrowful and sturdy.


My lady,
My muse,
My Renita.