She folds the old court room,
kangaroo judge, too-
chatty DA,
disembodied victim’s advocate
Into a single square of
pressed paper
Mama’s voice cracks over the
willful substitution
rendering mandatory sentences into a
Chain of paper doll victims
flattened easily
Into origami anger
….funny hats to
fragile sodden boats
hit by each percussive wave of
Shouldn’t-‘ve-been
Shouldn’t-ever-have-been
Done-to-us folds
after almost exactly 30 years
I return to the original cone of silence
Scooped not by time and chance but the
Actual-true-hand of God
near the plain of Megiddo
where bad, terrible, awful things have, did, and will
Happen.
You have a tell, my dear
In all your smack talk about leprechauns and canine destinations for women
At 2:30 in the morning
the aircraft flies too loud, too close
to my insomnia
I remember your anger is your origami armor
against the wounded you-us-story
sewn into the cloak
of every disguise you put on
in vain.
your birthday falls
between the Ides of February and
pruning day for roses
when the master gardener
makes them sound so alive, so fragile, so human
the way you once were
Boy without words for the monsters
we all become without the Antidote
without the blood transfusion
without the interventionist God
Who somehow, ineluctably abides
this fallen terrible
world where children, babies even
grow up thinking both antichrist and apocalypse are normal
Whole time grown ups
Just shout the most destructive platitudes
into the shotgun corridor of
This unbearable
desolation.
ghost light
reflected in the rear view mirror
(Where, as you know, things are closer than they appear)
Come close, Light
Lie with me in the dark night
Gaze into the firmament
where broody giants
time and atoms become
Lonely
As our eyes begin to falter
the ghost light does not
stop just because we fail
to see
No. The light goes on
comes on
Barrelling through the tunnel of darkness
toward us, light speed
These three remain…
Just three? Out of this infinite
host of…the
whole we shall be..come
When we see Love for the first time
Face to face.
Voice in your head
Kinda sounds like you but…
Kinder, wiser, more forgiving
Bright penny on the ground
In the most unlikely places
A posse of leaves long wrung from living limbs
Dance, alive in the winter wind
Sing your name
No matter
A big impossible
Promise unless it is Truth
Kind that sets a body free
Not unlike those ephemeral leaves
Dry bones
Bits of things found
In the unlikeliest places
Love will find you
No matter what.
They emerged from an ordinary
van
…wore ordinary clothes
shuffled toward me along uneven
lines
squinting, sun-struck
I realized: Magi!
come close enough for
greetings and salutations
along the usual
Lines of dignitaries and princes-
Hands shaken; eyes met
they said oh, it is you!
(Me?) their honored guest?
regretting I had no
Gold, frankincense, myrrh to give them
Come so far we all are
children of the King.
Just an ordinary looking guy with an odd refugee backstory who comes along, works with wood, talks some smack, heals the crowd, dies for all, inexplicably
Rises again.
The end-the beginning
for all of us.
The monkey tribe grieves
over the prone body of what is actually just
A robot baby
while across the globe in human cities
woman rage and tear
Euphemistic offspring from their own
wombs
Run, human child, to the relative kindness
of other mammal mothers
who would never, ever
do these terrible things
to even the semblance of
their own young.
her voice is metallic-insistent-succinct
Fire! Fire! Fire!
Thank God she is there
10 dollar angel
suspended above us while we sleep
…when we sleep
You know it took me years to know You did that
And then years again to know few others did.
Vigilant love, calling us out of darkness
where angels who watch over us if we
had eyes to see
Always resemble the Firstborn
Fill the sky with light
Ring the children with wings and eyes
And teach them how to vanquish
Implacable darkness
with words of supplication
to the fierce Unstoppable
God of Light.
Bet everybody loves a good
love story
Boy meets girl or something…
Only that is not enough
You once asked me if there were monkey bars that went all around the world
Could you do it?
I could do the math
24,901 miles around
Oddly specific last mile the hardest
Arms tired by the miles of
Arm-swing-leg-swing-hang repeat
131,477,280 bars
Feet
Hands and arms so tired
After an eternal day in the sun
The girl is such an ordinary thing
But the boy is one-of-a-kind
Worth looking for
The man who could, would, did and shall
Make this love story
Luminous.
Carrying Light 