Category Archives: Poem

Let me be … a tree

Worship at a recent staff retreat included the poem “More Beautiful than the Honey Locust Trees Are the Words of the Lord” by Mary Oliver. This poem appears in her book Thirst.

It explores themes of worship and nature and church and creation. Filled with rich, surprising images, the words and structure give much to ponder.

Tree 2One sentence jumped out at me as I read it. It stays with me:

Instead I went back to the woods where not a single tree turned its face away.

And I wonder. When have I turned my face away? Who are the people, my brothers and sisters, from whom I have turned my face away? Why have I turned my face away? What does it say about me that I turn my face away? How can I learn to be like a tree and not turn my face away?

And I wonder. When has the church turned its face away? When have members of a congregation, some, a few, many, all, turned their faces away? Who are the people, God’s beloved children, from whom the church and congregations turn away? What does it say about the church, about a congregation, that faces turn away? How can the church learn to be like a tree? How can a congregation learn to be like the woods?

I know, to my sorrow and shame, I know some of the times I have turned my face away. I know some of the people from whom I have turned away. I understand in some situations; in others it is not so clear why I turned away. I know some of the times that the church, and members of a congregation, have turned away.

But I don’t know all the times.

So I pray that I may be aware of my face and never turn my face away from my sisters and brothers; that I may have the grace to know when I turn my face away, because I will; that when I turn my face away, I may have the courage to repent and turn my face back to my brothers and sisters.

So I pray that I may be aware of when the church turns its face away; that I may be aware of when a congregation turns its face away; that I may have the grace and courage to work with the church and with congregations to repent and turn ts face back to my brothers and sisters.

So I pray let us be the woods let me be a tree. Amen.

See you along the Trail.

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Filed under Antiracism, Poem, Worship

After the fall

Fire races
from his hip to his knee;
his shoulder
stiffens and throbs;
yet both pains,
all pains,
pale against
the strangling grief
that crushes
life and joy
from his heart.

3:10 AM
23 November 2013
Shire on the Hudson
Manhattan, New York

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Filed under Friends, New York, Poem

Subway wind

Weary, drained,
I stand on the platform
and wait for the train.

I know there is no
signal, yet still
I check my phone.

I step to the edge
and marvel at the
debris between the rails.

The air begins to stir;
then picks up force;
wind surges down the tunnel.

Displaced by the arriving train,
the wind whistles through the station,
and the wind whispers “home.”

And it revives me.

Shire on the Hudson
31 October 2013

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Filed under New York, Poem

The day

Tomorrow
becomes
tomorrow
becomes
tomorrow.

Day follows day
like pages
turning in a book.

Tomorrow
becomes
tomorrow
becomes
tomorrow.

Until tomorrow
becomes today,
becomes the day,
and we act.

18 October 2013
Shire near the Hudson, New York

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Moon shines; hope lives

photo (52) (599x800)

Reflecting light,
the moon shines.

Between buildings,
the moon shines.

Through clouds,
the moon shines.

The moon shines,
hope rises.

The moon shines,
hope abides.

The moon shines,
hope lives.

16 October 2013
Manhattan, New York

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Filed under New York, Photo, Poem

Today, my friend

Today,
my friend,
I pray for you.

Peace,
my friend,
I pray for you.

Rest,
my friend,
I pray for you.

Strength,
my friend,
I pray for you.

Hope,
my friend,
I pray for you.

Courage,
my friend,
I pray for you.

Justice,
my friend,
I pray for you.

This day,
my friend,
I pray for you.

Always,
my friend,
I pray for you.

14 September 2013
Shire on the Hudson

Slightly different versions of this prayer-poem came out today for friends in different difficult situations.

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Purple flowers, Annapolis 5

Purple Flowers Annapolis 1 22 September 2012 (1024x768) (800x600)

Some purple flowers
pose such a threat
they are held behind fences.

Annapolis, Maryland
22 September 2012

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Filed under Photo, Poem

The AMA

Behind the emergency room curtain,
the addict argued with the doctor
who had revived him,
who had returned him to life –
again –
the third time it had happened in a month.
“Please,” the addict pleaded.
He whined,
blustered,
threatened,
begged,
raged,
wept,
bargained.
“Please let me go.”
The addict listed all he had to do,
all he could do,
all he might do.
“Please let me go.”
He made promises and
when those failed to move her,
he just as easily promised the opposite.
“Please let me go.”
Two things the doctor asked.
Two things the addict would not do:
sign the AMA,
take the prescribed meds.
Firm the doctor stood.
As security guards arrived,
Death,
gaunt Death,
quiet Death,
unseen Death,
Death rose from the corner and
said, “Not today. Not today.”
Then Death slipped silently through the curtain
To move down the ER hall.

29 August 2013

DL 6026

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Measuring

We may measure our days in
minutes, hours, or
other units of times.

How we fill those minutes, hours, or
other units of time
also measures our days.

We may measure our lives in
months, years,  or
other units of time.

What we do during those months, years, or
other units of time
also measures our lives.

28 August 2013
Louisville, Kentucky

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Filed under Louisville, Poem, Travel

Flight

Butterfly

Perfection is nice.
Symmetry is appealing.
Sometimes
wounded wings
can fly.

4 August 2013
Abraham Lincoln Birthplace National Historical Park

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Filed under National Park, Photo, Poem