Words are frequent
but wisdom is scarce,
billions of voices raised
in praise
not to God, but to self.
Perpetual adolescents
assured of the veracity and value
of their own views
take to their keyboards
to offer their wisdom’s treasures
140 characters at a time.
With enough red hearts
and retweets
they can remain sure
that they are just what culture needs
when, in reality,
what is truly needed
is silence.
Life is not
Hurrying on to a receding future,
Nor hankering after an imagined past.
It’s the turning aside like Moses
To the miracle
Of the lit bush,
To a brightness that seemed
As transitory as your youth once,
But is the eternity that awaits you.
-RS Thomas
I did not
have to ask my heart what it wanted,
because of all the desire I have ever known,
just one did I cling to
for it was the essence of
all desire:
to hold beauty in
my soul’s
arms.-St John of the Cross
The Lion of Judah,
walks the earth;
He began in a stable,
the humblest birth.
Now splendor and majesty,
He wears as His mane;
Our glorious King,
His death is our gain.
Strength and beauty,
reflect all His ways;
“of course He is good,
but He is not safe.”
We tremble in worship,
awed at His splendor;
forgetting ourselves,
in reverent surrender.
The seas roar aloud,
the fields do cheer;
all creation rejoices,
when Aslan is near.
Splendor and majesty are before him;
strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.
Psalm 96:6
abundant glory
you might hear if you listen
but you plug your ears
11/9 PAD prompt: ___ if ____
Six inch cylinder
translucent and black,
cradled perfectly
in my hand.
But I should get to the point.
Less than 1/2 millimeter
restraining miles of ink
to write who knows what.
I confess that my eyes wander
and I am wooed by other pens.
I relent
and then regret,
for you G2 are,
as the box promises,
“Ultra Fine.”
11/8 PAD prompt: a thing poem
broken before God
shedding fig leaves and pretense
opens us to grace
For the farmer
week days do not exist.
Weeks? Yes.
Days? Yes.
But weekdays? No.
Nature
and not time clocks
dictates their rhythm.
Today’s PAD prompt: “week days”
A world bound in grief
longing for relief
suffering abounds
pain is all around.
Innocence dying
evil ever trying
to rule human hearts
tearing us apart.
Yet the sun ascends
bringing grace again
its daily duty
revealing beauty.
Let our tears become
prisms for the sun
pain’s crystalline lens
bending praise to heav’n.
PAD Prompt: Praise Poem
I wrote this poem as part of the Writer’s Digest 2017 PAD Chapbook Challenge. Each day, a new prompt is posted. I missed the first 5 days, but likely will go back and try those prompts too.
Little mesh silos
holding back
an abundance of food–
thistle seed, cracked corn, black oil sunflower seed,
and cakes of suet.
An avian feast.
It took a day or two
before the little flycatcher
accepted the invitation to dine and then
countless return trips to the buffet line.
Soon, he was joined by
a cardinal, decked out in crimson,
a Downie woodpecker, with just a splash of red,
and several black-capped chickadees.
Then the chipmunk came.
Though not the typical clientele,
he too was welcome.
But he ignored the signs:
“Eat as much as you like,
but don’t remove food from the premises.”
Welcome guest turned self-centered nuisance,
scaring off the other guests.
Greed like his is what
makes the generous
regret their gifts.
Jason Kanz 