Category Archives: poetry

the heavens open…


i see the empty body

requiem-vested in white;

he has left us for Another.


hidden behind wary lids,

salty mix of sorrow and joy;

a love i cannot explain.


i’ll be alone, i’d thought,

no one will understand

this hole in my heart.


church walls gather us close.

we weep, we hug, we laugh.

and share our holy hearts.


how did i not see it before –

this communion of life

that surrounds me?


praised be God

in our Lord Jesus Christ

for all His good gifts.


alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

the heavens open

and he enters the eternal Joy.


amen. amen.


On January 21, 2018, my very dear friend and pastor of 38 years left behind his ailing body to enter the presence of God. Loving us to the end, he crossed over as, we, his people, prayed for him in Eucharistic celebration. May he live forever in the fullness of our Father’s love.




the gifts have been brought

to the table.

the bread. the wine.

and me.


He takes the bread

and breaks it.

the cup, He lifts

and blesses.

He pauses before me.

i tremble.


me He does not need to break.

i am already broken.

so many times blessed,

still just ordinary wine.

what can He do

with one such as me?


my head bowed,

my eyes closed,

i am lost in unworthiness.

silently, His servant comes,

 laying upon me

the veil of humility.


i feel His hands lift me,

tenderly holding me.

and He does something

so unexpected

it takes my breath away.


He sings to me.

He sings to my heart

the hymn of espousal –

a hymn i have always known

but never heard –

and my heart sings back.


there are no words.

in a piercing moment,

i find myself wedded

to an eternity of wounds.

His wounds.

 o Love – my Love –

o sacred Joy unending…


all glory to Him forever.




On this Feast of St. Thérèse of the Child Jesus, please pray for me, dear friends, that I may follow her on the path to holy surrender.

All thanks and praise to God, for His many gifts…


while it is still April – part 2

As April draws to a close, I must slip in one more bit of verse – though, of course, poetry will continue on and on. It cannot stop – it is in our souls.

Though I had it in my mind to write one of those long, deep, spiritual posts today, the Spirit seems to have led me in a different direction.

Ah, to be led by God and have no will of my own! A priceless thing…


(This poem is meant to be read from top to bottom, regardless of whether the next line appears on the left or the right side of the image collage. I have also printed the poem by itself below, for those who might find this distracting.)


they splash in their bath

and sip of its coolness


warm dusty feathers

and seedy bills.

spreading forth wings

before sun’s light

they sing –

o glory –

 it is Spring…

while it is still April


while it is still April

i will sing to you

of color and flight

and everything green

and growing.


i will sing

of crashing clouds

that thunder and splash

raining life upon

earth’s knowing.


while it is still April

i will sing of sun

and opening buds

through which the wind

comes blowing.


and in the end,

i will sing of hope

and love undying

which from His tomb

are flowing.

           – – –

April is National Poetry Month and, interestingly, while I was dreaming up this post, its title became the prompt for the poem. I welcome posts of any original poems you might wish to share in the comments, “while it is still April”.

The ABC’s of Salvation

The following poem is in abecedarian form, with an added challenge. Generally, in this form, each line (or stanza) starts with the next letter of the alphabet until the entire alphabet has been used, from beginning to end, in order. The added twist here is that I made every word in each line begin with the given letter. My only “cheating” was to use one Greek word and one Hebrew word. I have provided a recording of the poem as well as the print version, so that you can hear all of the beautiful alliteration this created.


anguish, agony, as adversary afflicts

before battle begins –

cowards cower, churchmen chide, children chant.

deep dark death damning Deity’s dawn.

even everlasting evokes ego, evil

finding fools fancying fawning faith for

gods, grinning, grasping, glorifying greed, glamour

hell’s hero howling hate; heaven’s heart

incarnate, illumined, infinitely immersed in

joy – Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!

knocking, knowing, kneeling,

lifting Love, laughing Light lives.

maiden mother Mary,

numinous nurturer needed near,

overflowing offerer of obedience,

proclaiming praise, purity prevails.

queen quieting questions, quelling quarrels.

rest, receive, rejoice – redeemed

souls singing sacred songs, see saving Son.

transformed, transfigured, theosis-touched

utter union unfolding

vision vast, virginal, vowed.

wondrous works worship


yearning, yielding, yes.



The Birth

(This is the first of my Christmas greetings to you, my beloved readers, to celebrate and proclaim the Good News of the holy Birth. This poem is a lipogram – a poem in which all words contain only one vowel – which is part of what gives it its unusual syntax and rhythm. Thus it is not a smooth and delicate poem – but birth is not a smooth and delicate event. Yet it is joyous… Listen and read. I hope to share more as the feast continues…)


inn fills with sin
fighting din within
virgin’s signs swift
missing kin, rich risk –
sighing, “His will” –
skin rips in giving,
till wisp, limbs,
silk skin, milk gift.
his is kiss
spirit Child bliss.
sing! sing! sing!
lift high
bright light –
fill still night!
find him,
find him in night!
Christ-might will
right ill’s plight
find him –

The well

(I offer you this little poem…it is recorded if you prefer to listen, and is followed by the text, should you prefer to read.)


the well is deep
but it did not come into being
+++without pain.
they came to dig one day
in that field i bought
+++just last year –
the one that cost me everything
+++i owned.

“why here?” i wondered,
as i signed the permit
they thrust before me.
“why dig a well here,
+++in this field,
in my field, that is so
full of rocks and weeds?”

yet they began,
breaking through old roots,
crushing layers of stone,
deeper and deeper
+++into the heart
where the treasure lay.

as much as i knew it would happen,
it still stunned me to see
what bubbled to the surface,
+++so clean and pure and holy.
come. come – drink of the joy –
+++it is free.
++++++it is all for you.

++++++ +++

Hymn to Our Savior

This is one of those occasions when the Orthodox and Roman calendars diverge. Hence, I understand if my Orthodox readers prefer to defer on this post until next week.

To all readers: note that I know nothing about composing music. I have recorded the “music” that came to me with these words inspired by Christ’s death and Resurrection. I’m afraid you will also have to sing them yourself as singing is not one of my gifts. 🙂


The Lord is risen from the tomb,

Out of darkness shines His light.

In Him comes forth our salvation,

Born from His humility.


For He died a shameful death,

Hung upon a criminal’s tree.

Then He went to hell to find us,

Crushing sin and death with love.


All our hope lies in this mys’try.

Life eternal now is ours

This love that He has died to give us,

Now pours freely from our hearts.


the Garment

I did not ask for a poem this time, or at least not until it had already started and I didn’t quite know what to do with it. I was sitting on the floor in the dark, beginning my night prayer when its words began.

When the words persisted, I turned on the light and jotted them down in the little notebook by my bedside. I knew that whatever was being said was not yet finished but I was simply too tired to continue.

Not surprisingly, more came the next night – but this time I was ready. But I knew there was more to come. I just didn’t know what. This afternoon, it was finished.

Now, if only I can learn to live its message…


reaching for the garment

on my closet floor

i think aloud,

“why should i hold on to

this tattered old self?

what is it to me?

once i thought it something grand,

 to be worn with pride,

but now all i see are tears

and holes and frayed edges.”

can i let it go, so familiar

and comfortable it’s become?

can i toss it aside for the new self

that awaits me?


a Word speaks to me

in my nakedness,

“wrap yourself in a mantle of justice.

do not be afraid to be among

the white-robed army of martyrs

and be ever ready for

the wedding feast.”


the Word continues,

“but even that is not enough.

you must ‘clothe yourself

in Christ Jesus’ –

yes, wrap yourself in Me –

until My Self is your self

and yours is Mine.”


for a time, i am silent.

what can i say

as i shiver in the dark,

clinging to my tattered self?

i finger each threadbare memory

 as though a treasure

i cannot bear to part with.


the Word speaks again,

“put on, my beloved,

‘heartfelt compassion, kindness,

humility, gentleness and patience’.

here, here is My tunic

for which they cast lots.

let it be your garment now.

I gave it up for you.”


i have no choice

yet no moment has ever been freer

as i let go of everything

 i once thought was me.

i let go, dropping the tattered self

and it falls uselessly to the floor.

but i no longer see it.

before me there is nothing

but the Light – o glorious Light –

my Love, my Christ,

my Love.


(to Him be glory)