Tremble

Silver follicles thinly combed,
Over speckled brow kindly wrinkled ,
His eyes ever inward honed,
Looking for memories long addled,
I remember.

And Pop loved all within his sphere,
Beloved and loving with every breath,
His eyes paled, but showed no fear,
That he was losing the race with death,
I remember.

A gentleman managing his broken world,
Always glad to see someone he ought to know,
Speak a prayer and his brow would unfurl,
And his countenance betrays a warm glow,
I remember.

Lost were places, people, dreams, words,
Barely a shadow of the man beloved of kin,
Mostly he had made the journey heavenwards,
With but a breath hanging on to his skin,
I remember.

The Lord is my Shepherd;
I Shall Not Want,
Pop's eyes clear in connection...
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
A vague look of recognition...
He restoreth my soul:
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
He quiets his search for lost speech...
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
His inward gaze in upward reach...
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
And contentment imbues his gaze...
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
And Pop sees beyond his mindless maze...

And Pop shortly breathes his last,
Now his tears, memories restored anew,
His sweet Savior now holds him fast.
In that place, he believed was true.

Breathe,
Pray,
Tremble.

Embers

Once crackling and consuming,
Sweetness, light, mirth of mind,
Curtains of carbon enveloping,
Beloved and loved intertwined,
Their bodies and spirits burning
Euphoria so willingly made blind,
And open.

Soon crackles quiet in warm whispers,
And warm safety soothes the bones,
The blazing calms to soft dangers,
All aglow in warmth and earth-tones,
Deepening bonds unite the dancers,
Swaying in warm breezes unknown,
Now deepen.

The crackles diminish into a hiss,
A coldness impinges past the flame,
Limbs fold away from tender kiss,
Each in t'ward solitary frames,
Warmth — a tide — recedes the bliss,
That was once sweetly proclaimed,
Now cheapened,

As embers bleed their heat and light,
L'amour recedes to places far,
Death dying death — day and night,
Once aflame, now cooled to char,
Crimson coals crumble ashen white,
And drift on morning breeze afar,
Unshapen.

Thirsty

When the desert claims the garden
And rivers cannibalize their flow
Thistles consume without pardon
None can either reap or sow,

When skin and mucous membranes
Parch to taut leathery hide
Crusted joints and walking canes
Make for jaunty, broken stride,

When the horizon's broiling haze,
Scorch all stirring in daylight's wake,
Lithesome air sets beasts ablaze,
A lifelessness that will not slake,

'Tis then flash floods raid the sands,
Cooling muddy silt wraps the crust,
And seeds dying within the lands,
Cramped casings give to floral burst,

And crawlers, slithers, walkers, play,
In new grass dew by fragile ponds,
Jubilee that ends the curse of day,
An oasis covenant renews the bonds,

Of living to water, breath, and Spirit,
Of Spirit to dead zones made alive,
Seasonal baptism be the Holy Writ,
Story of each creature born to thrive,

Yet waiting.

A Grace Prayer

Chasms open before your feet,
Offering odds you dare not meet,
Cold your breath in whispered prayer,
And old the faith which gets you there,
It will get you there.

And many beloved, and many friends,
Hearts well up as prayers ascend,
To warm the chill within your spine,
In hopes to share, the bread, the wine,
Broken bread, poured wine.

These prayers flow in a holy tide,
With you our friends they will abide,
That sweet healing be upon the wind,
That Ann's sweet families will mend,
That you all will mend.

And though parted with long goodbyes,
The gleam of tears within our eyes,
We grieve in hope but grieve we do,
And love, and walk, and pain with you,
Our beloved friends.

The broken bread, the poured wine,
And a Grace-Prayer be the signs,
To Adam, to Ingrid, and to you,
Of the fellowship that's ever new,
And renewed.

Amen.

____

Written for my friends, when I learned she was in a bad accident. Written primarily for him, who sat by her bed upheld by the prayers of many. I updated this once she had passed away some weeks later.

New Year in Old Times

Some years seem like death come slow,
A lovely bleeding anoints the grass,
The litany of woes that times bestow,
Each year feels dimmer than the last.
Though in pain lovely selves do grow,
All pray the coming year will surpass,
In sweet solaces.

In the mirth of December's eventide,
Are fragile crusty painted faces,
In prayer or drink, the year has died,
Bittersweet the cheers and embraces,
As the merriment's fateful subside,
All remain with the gifts and graces,
Of lonely places.

The Year's new hope waxes eloquent,
Sweetly the heart — full of resolve,
Soon the coals now burning ardent,
Cool as our lofty goals dissolve,
Hapless in fashioning an atonement,
Shadows of utopias again devolve,
To cadaverous cadences.

Some years seem like death come slow,
Yet grass grows through the fissures,
Regardless what the times may bestow,
There is love and healing that endures,
Though no shortage of pain nor of woe —
Will come a day of justice and closures,
And secure embraces.

Solstice

When horizon billows ashen,
The daystar becomes recluse,
And as daylight is in ration,
December frost will seduce,
The entire hemisphere.

As the evening shades expand,
The soul pines the missing light,
With every falling grain of sand,
Knees and spines curve contrite,
Pray cool atmosphere.

Once god Saturn was beseeched,
In gifts, candles, songs, and fete,
Virtues of this god were preached,
In slim hope that he could abate,
The climate austere.

As lord Mithras ‘ere remembered,
As this Persian unconquered sun,
His light-filled reign was assured,
At midwinter to have but begun,
Igniting luminous sphere.

Jews received the gift of oil,
The lamps burning eight days long,
Brothers — Seleucid plans did foil,
To a Holy temple, the faithful throng,
In never-ending cheer.

Into this darkness a light has shone,
Word to rekindle that which is fair,
Into the darkness births a new dawn,
Yet devils shadow o’er each prayer,
But in all, Love will adhere,

Evermore.

Christmas in Hell

Walking through the snowy city,
Neon and flash muffle the stars,
A pace madly void of pity,
A world of carbon coughing cars.

Peace on earth in holiday mode,
With endless sales to void the soul,
Merciless will the voices goad,
To part every one from their dole.

All blinded by sparkles and bling,
Deafened by such vacuous calls,
Foot before foot, n’er hear the bells ring,
Steeples and churches dwarfed by malls.

Once the meaning was so splendid,
Now a time for rich and for poor,
To part, the least unattended,
A sign faith has failed to endure.

Beleaguered, the first holy night,
An occupied land, a common birth,
Common family in uncommon plight,
Newborn with beasts, next to the earth.

The voices were those of shepherds,
Angelically were moved to find,
Streaming from hick town’s backwaters,
The lowly behold the greatest signs.

Today, the Christ child lingers,
Far from knickknack cherubs and elves,
And the hype and sale of anglers,
Nearer ones who humble themselves.

Streetwalkers, embezzlers, users,
Bankers who’ve lost every wager,
Room for abused and abusers,
Forlorn find Christ is no stranger.

Wherever be there hell on earth,
The Christ strays far from the mirth.

Afghanistan, Algeria,
Angola, Burma, Canada
China, Colombia, Congo, GAZA
Georgia, India, Indonesia,
Iraq, Israel, Ivory Coast,
Korea, Laos, Lebanon,
Moldova, Namibia, Nepal,
Nigeria, Pakistan, Palestine,
Peru, Philippines, Russia,
Somalia, Spain, Sri Lanka,
Sudan, Thailand, Turkey,
Uganda, United States,
Uzbekistan, Yemen. (1)

When Christmas is hell, hope is in dearth,
The heart's cry should be for peace on earth.

(1) Some of the places at war or where war has been fought now, and relatively recently.