old rugged. a poem. a prayer.

i’m on an old hymn kick
the rickety stanzas
like bent wire fences on browning fields
a great sort of faithfulness
holding in the fountain filled with grief
assurance a distant orb
falling beneath the blessed horizon
*
i’m on an old hymn kick
walks in the garden too lonely to bear
without the everlasting arms of
the One foundation lifting
gravely voices like eighth notes
chords of the bass clef like rolling thunder
shadows of turning
The Body crying
*
holy
*
holy
*
holy
*
Lord God Almighty

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Psalm 34:18
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

***
dedicated to those in my church family and my work and community who are hurting today …

scarlet. a poem.

I’m not sure what to make

of the tractor sounds

tilling rich soil for

planting and harvest replaced

by backhoes and graders

and cement mixers

so close to home

*

except to say that

the scarlet

peonies on my back

porch are about to

burst.

 

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photo copy 2

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For as long as Earth lasts,
        planting and harvest, cold and heat,
    Summer and winter, day and night
        will never stop. 

Genesis 8:22 (TMV)

*****

 

this poem is dedicated to Pastor Peter Levchenko, a great sower of seeds and tender of souls in the heart of Ukraine, with Mission to Ukraine. he passed away this morning, too soon. and to all who mourn in Oklahoma. here is a photo of Pastor Peter, courtesy of World Next Door.

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