The Tempo Changes

The Tempo Changes

(“God is able to make all grace abound toward you, so that you, always having enough of everything, may abound to every good work.” 2 Corinthians 9:8)

Don’t worry about the tempo changes,
the tune will stay the same.
It’s the harmony of the springhead,
daylight running and nighttime
replying to the parting clouds. The
waters will rush, they will gurgle,
they will sometimes trickle,
but always seeking their own level,
overflow; capacity unlimited.
Would the river run to the sea where
the brackish meets the sweet? Would the
ecology change in a welcome flock of
fruit trees begging the rain with their leaves?

(I’m the sort of guy who notices when
someone’s glasses are askew. I know they can
afford
to have them leveled about their nose.)

With all the talk of mystic days along the
forest’s edge, the day invites further exploration.
But we hesitate, fretting we will find only mud;
we long to meet a doe who acts like she knows us.
Or a bluejay who is not frightened away by our clumsy
attempts at stealth. We would prefer to live more slowly,
if only the deceleration included a companion or two.
Nevertheless, the air is the same where the river touches
the sea,
and where the forest wraps itself around the village
on the river.

(I should admit, my glasses are crooked too. And to
my knowledge, no one has commented so far. The right
lens has been lower than the left for three years from yesterday.)

Don’t worry about the key change,
we will take it slowly. And if the day offers nothing but silence,
we will put it in the bank and bring it out the next time
the crowds are too deafening.

A Rich Harvest

“The harvest is rich, but the workers are few. Pray that the Lord of the harvest will send out workers to gather in his harvest.” Matthew 9:37b, 38

To me, this is one of the most counter-intuitive sayings of Jesus. In fact, my ear almost always hears Him saying, “The harvest is rich, the workers are few. Pray the Lord of harvest to send out workers…and make sure you are one of them!” But that is not what He says at all.

Buzz or Thunder

Buzz or Thunder

“The proud religious law-keepers said among themselves, ‘Look, we are losing followers. Everyone is following Jesus!” John 12:19

Sometimes the sounds of crowds are just the buzz
like ocean breakers
to lull me back to sleep, deeply completing the dreams
that never appear upon waking.

Just like the scrum after a fumble, with blues and whites
rolling on the green; no one can tell who the ball belongs to,
no one can see the possession, it takes so long to
wrestle the padded combatants from the leather ball
that looks as if it landed here from Mars or farther.

The noise at the endzone, winning or losing, would wake a baby
finally nursed, sweetly breathing. Sticking everything in the infants’ mouth,
from cheerios to fingers, pursehandles to jacket sleeves;
the thunder shakes the earth discordant. Though, if the child
grows up with the barking of partisans, she may enjoy the rumbling
the wakes the dead and keeps the dog shivering under the bed.

Success sells, they say, but my way of thinking is to sell the best,
and the rest will likely follow.

I am sorry, my Savior, that today we would rather cheer a
pink limousine, and hope that Christina A. or Britney S.
is riding in the back reading a magazine. It’s a story
for cafeteria talk, and the room would be ours once.

But, like Jesus disciples, we want the children to keep their
little mouths shut, walk quietly and properly around the house
we call His,
for reverence must outweigh enthusiasm, and so we have learned
to cheer at the far end of the endzone

And whisper at the end of every Amen.