A Ribbon Unbound

 

A Ribbon Unbound

(“Jesus replied to him, 'Truly, I tell you emphatically, unless a person is born from above he cannot see the kingdom of God.’” John 3:3)

Placed around the human psyche like a ring of wildflowers
dancing a round,
there are scents that play completely unnoticed, found
only on the loneliest days. The earth may warm,
the breeze shortly cease, and languid moments
lasting only seconds
speak of eternity as if there is a ribbon unbound by
dimension
that has wrapped us up like a birthday gift.

I confess I need a party to know it.

Spirit take me into the deep, under the waters,
to the middle of the forest and the beat of the
few who gather, though they know not why they
were summoned. I suppose it is life I am after,
denser than the hot air
that imitates resurrection. I suppose these tears
are my desire to surrender like daisies do to
earth and sun and water.
Spirit sweep me off my feet.

Drink with Me

Drink with Me

(“What man is like Job? He drinks derision like water.” Job 34:7 as spoken by Elihu)

What else would I drink when you offer such bitter libations?
What have you offered me but your sour incantations?
When you sat at my table I offered you the sweetest wine,
when we sweat away the afternoon I always filled your water first.

You are false springs, for you make me false with what you
have attempted to offer me.
I will not take your sour wine, your vinegar, when I have said,
“I thirst.”

And, you, with a tongue red as fire,
never inquire once about the weight I carry, the burden I
cannot
unpack without
it being filled again.

Every morning begins the same,
every evening ends in pain,
and your favorite saying is “get over it’
and I would gladly do so if it would
get over me.

You are false springs, siphoning your poison into my soul,
you make me false with your projections, your supposed hologram
of my mental apprehensions.
What questions have you asked to find the reason my
love has turned to pain?
Oh, you asked them once, and never asked again
because it did not fit with your preconceptions
of what a man like me should drink in the desert.

If you offered a top-shelf gift poured in crystal,
I would drink slowly with you, never dismissing the distilled
liquor you sacrifice for a friend. But, in the end,
you’ve only brought the bitterest brew and accused me
of drinking it long before you.
Truly, I would offer you the barrel-aged best
if you would only stop for a moment, cease your
enmeshed arguments and breathe with me a while.

I’ve seen your millstone, the albatross around your neck,
but I have not mentioned it. And now, burdened as I,
you double the weight I carry by words too heavy to bear.

If I could transfer every fiber, every nerve, every misgiving,
every quiver of my words, every question of my faith,
and every battle I have fought to keep the demons at bay;
if I could transfer them to you, so you felt them. This time.
This space. This thirst. This heat. This dirt and disgrace…

…then perhaps you would drink with me something better than
sulfur springs. Then perhaps you would hold your tongue,
hold my hand, join me and either weep or sing for my agony
when you arrive so late to the party.

Welcome

Welcome

(“The person who says that he is in the light but hates his brother is still in the darkness.” 1 John 2:9)

Welcome to the party, come inside, find your place along the wall,
or in a chair, single or dual.

Did you ride well, or walk, did the rain drip
down your back, and were you able to find a plus 1,
is he parking the car, or she, or preceded you pulling some
pate de foie gras from the platter with pointy bread or salad.

Welcome to my home, wipe your feet, leave the mud outside,
never mind the dog’s nails, the cat’s hair, the cockatiel’s harsh songs,
oh my, they are all so talented.

You don’t like dog breath on your face, allergic to cats, don’t mind birds
but would I unplug the music that sounds so messy accompanying Debussy.
You agree about their talents, though, am I right, and have not mispronounced
your name or stumbled upon your toe; tell me.

Welcome to the patio, inhale the air, let the manicured carpet tickle your feet,
mosquitoes and horseflies are mostly gone now, electrically dismissed by
blue sparks, the marigolds and tea tree oil pick up the slack, you’ll
mostly be left alone, except of course,

For the dog and the cat.

Oh, this is your plus one, and your name, sir, and your occupation, and
what libation would you desire, you would rather drink water, though
not entirely unheard of, bottled or tap, and lastly, before I forget, you
were told, or read, or overhead at the latest meeting, that we are gathered tonight
to make our school safer for the little apples of our eyes.

These three are ours, and you have two, boy and girl, we must call the others
and begin our brief consultation, come, gather around, a circle will do, find your
place and we begin:

“Our Father in heaven, we have full hearts from Your outpouring of grace.
We depend upon Your mercy, and call upon Your wisdom. See how we,
singles and marrieds, widows and divorced, have come in Your love to
meet this wonderful night. Guide us, be with us, let Jesus’ name be above
every other name, Amen.”

Murmurs, and a few throats cleared, feet scuffed and shuffled on the concrete
patio floor.

Welcome to our meeting, and, uhm, we, well, we have a question, have you
been praying, we have a question, and a devilish problem. Have you heard,
and how will you answer, we have, in our own high school

A teacher, a lesbian,

And another, a witch.

Welcome to God’s mission: suggestions on how to rid our school of them.

The Same Song

The Same Song

(“There is more joy in heaven over one lost sinner who repents and returns to God than over ninety-nine others who are righteous and haven’t strayed away!” Luke 15:7)

The invitation was sent straight to the last address we knew,
the postage licked upon the upper right-hand corner and
the envelope sealed with hand-fashioned card inside.

How could you miss the dancing? We nearly had the police called
on us
for all the noise! We could not help the raucous shouting;
it was no time for doves cooing or kitties purring,
this was straight up Wild Goose honking, the Geadh-Glas
inciting the high-step celebration. One more lost one
found their vacant seat again.

You pulled up, but could find no place to park?
The Shepherd strode the high hills of the mansion rich,
the cul-de-sacs of well-heeled pretense,
the clackboard boxes six-per-block,
and the tumble down trailers unscreened windows and doors.

He called for years, the name of the loved one, never forgetting
the way it first sounded upon the tongue. He whispered softly
in crowds,
sprained His voice as He ripped echoes across voided canyons,
and every day, the same vigor as at the first, the same
heartbreak, the same desire to reverse the pathway which took
the lone lamb away from the rest of us all.

You would have stayed, but did not enjoy the music?
Did you forget already, the same song was sung, with
the same passion and abandon, the very second in time
you turned on a dime (not quite so far from home, but
just as absent); has the taste of the finest fare already
been erased from your tongue?

There is time to return, however late. The dances begin
upon the hour, upon the minute, upon the moment
the front door opens for anyone who changed their mind,
deciding a party thrown by God leaves no time to
ponder the propriety of it all.

Reasons to Celebrate

“Remember this month as a time when our sorrow was turned to joy, and celebration took the place of crying. Celebrate by having parties and by giving to the poor and by sharing gifts of food with each other.” Esther 9:22

There was a 5 year old girl with eyes as round as saucers and her 7 year old sister with her blonde hair with French braids. There was a young teenage girl, quiet and shy and her mom. They could be twins if they weren’t mom and daughter. There was a set of twins, one married a little over a year to her man who carries the heart of a donor within his mid-20s chest. The other twin, a single mom, has seen her life take a full 180 degree turn for the better in recent months. There was a grandmother who has struggled with drug use, but her face reflects both her past, and something new within. And there was veteran who walks with a cane; the result of a broken back in service to his country. A man who would give away all he had to help those in need around him.

Celebrate: You are Invited!

Celebrate: You are Invited!

(from our church's monthly newsletter)

“But we should be glad and celebrate! Your brother was dead, but he is now alive. He was lost and has now been found.” Luke 15:32

Our young people were gathered in the parking lot preparing to leave together for Youth Convention. I like to meet with them and pray for the group before they leave. After praying that they would all have a fresh encounter with God, meet new friends and be kept safe as they traveled, their leader explained the rules.