It depends on your definition of “walk”

Posted on October 30, 2026 by Elea Lee

https://www.quora.com/Is-it-possible-to-walk-from-the-USA-to-Africa-100-on-foot-Going-through-Alaska-then-Russia-then-Europe-until-North-Africa

Isaiah 61:1-6 KJV
[1] The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; [2] To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; [3] To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified. [4] And they shall build the old wastes, they shall raise up the former desolations, and they shall repair the waste cities, the desolations of many generations. [5] And strangers shall stand and feed your flocks, and the sons of the alien shall be your plowmen and your vinedressers. [6] But ye shall be named the Priests of the Lord : men shall call you the Ministers of our God: ye shall eat the riches of the Gentiles, and in their glory shall ye boast yourselves.

I guess there are a million things to speculate about

Did he know it would be years?

Did he get to wear clothes in his “leisure time?”

Was he really murdered by his own grandson?

In a way that confounds description/

/One day we will know

The road He walked for us

Some of it on water

And when we know—really know

How far He went to save us

We shall be

Home

On earth as it is in Heaven.

More Alive

Posted on October 25, 2026 by Elea Lee

Mark 3:7 KJV
[7] But Jesus withdrew himself with his disciples to the sea: and a great multitude from Galilee followed him, and from Judaea,

It was a windy day outside and the laundry lay in a pile on an old couch on the mezzanine of the Chinese restaurant

While upstairs they ate at clear glass tables

And a light rain fell outside

Where

Hundreds of plants strung and draped along the clotheslines

as alive as we are

Swayed toward one another—leave, stem, and root reaching out

As though they had been forced to live as

Aerialists on high wires

When their hearts belonged to

The deep blue sea.

Selfies with Jesus

Posted on October 25, 2026 by Elea Lee

https://youtube.com/@brotherdogstudio?si=8FKxFwMp_IsLO4Bb

The same young man who takes nearly three hundred photos for his photography assignment, winnows them down to 25, prints out those 25, drives to the drug store to pick them up, tells me about

Petabytes

Too big for comprehension as

Hubble and James Webb hurtle on

Clicking selfies with Jesus in the dazzling

Night sky

“Don’t you worry about me!”

Posted on October 22, 2026 by Elea Lee

No stranger to public displays of affection,

I sit down next to the entwined and ask them

What is your favorite Jesus story?

The boy-man deflects

What is your favorite Jesus story?

I tell him a story about the Son of Man raising Lazarus from the dead after four days only to walk willingly into the maw of his own brutal crucifixion

Face the shame

Face the sin

Face the grief and

Wrath of the Holy God

3 days later—rise again

I ask them how I can pray for them and she says,

I’ve got lots of people praying for me! Don’t you worry about me!

An audible conversation

Posted on October 21, 2026 by Elea Lee

I wait hours to talk to him after

“Errors occur“

And hold music good enough to dance to in the

Hallway of the doctor’s office

He is so kind at 3 am India time

Helps me untangle my returns

Asks me if I am ready for Halloween?

I tell him I celebrate fall

He says he does as well and

Hindu holidays strung out like lights on a wire

He asks me about the weather?

I tell him that it has just cooled off in Texas—beautiful and cool and he

Tells me it is beautiful where he is today too—rain so joy-filled that beauty is not enough

I tell him I think he must be a poet and he tells me I must be a good guesser

We bless each other with words

And suddenly the detour feels worth it.

Rayleigh Scattering

Posted on October 15, 2026 by Elea Lee

We have to rethink light

not limited by our limits—rods, cones, our presbyopic narrowing

The purple in the sky, there

Regardless of “us”

Ghosts in the peripheral

surround nonetheless

Perhaps we will be judged by them

So great a cloud of witnesses

The invisible spectrum always at our shoulders

Dust to dust

eternity

Scattering

in all direction

The Leaves

Posted on October 10, 2026 by Elea Lee

It has happened several times now—so many that

Accident is impossible

1. A flock of leaves flew upward

Featherweights in unison

Flight

2. Flurry of them cascading downward in a strong wind (like)

Snowflakes in a storm

And three—

a solitary leaf

Even with the horizon becomes

A giant butterfly? A small bird?

Flying, not falling, defiant of physics and limitations

Each sent by the Holy Wind

Who goes where he wills

And will let the leaves speak for him when we

fall silent.

Whether Balloons

Posted on October 4, 2026 by Elea Lee

They rise at dawn

Balloon

Device

Telemetry

Parachute

Gas lighter than air

Pulls them

And

And up

Like a crazy near earth skydiver

Waiting for the moment when it all changes

The day

We become the weather balloons

Held aloft by the light

And the oil in our lamps

And the voice of the Bridegroom

We will

Rise

Whether permitting….

Matthew 16:1-3 KJV
[1] The Pharisees also with the Sadducees came, and tempting desired him that he would shew them a sign from heaven. [2] He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair weather: for the sky is red. [3] And in the morning, It will be foul weather to day: for the sky is red and lowring. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?

News of His enthronement

Posted on July 11, 2026 by Elea Lee

In my head the news comes

Across the radio

Wafting through

The ordinary work—

Washing, mending, sorting

Clothes pinned to lines in the sun

While the reporters tell overlapping stories

Of a man amidst the mob

Soldiers plaiting thorns

World,

Your King has come

Naked, silent, broken, abused, mocked, slandered, burned in the fire

For my place,

I take the ordinary

thorns

Plait a crown

Just to push into farthest edge of the terrible howl

He takes for us

Rapture Dream

Posted on June 21, 2026 by Elea Lee

In the dream I am younger, foolish, or maybe just in an alternate timeline. I am in college and for the first few weeks of the semester I keep missing a class because of some sort of social group attached to another class.

The repeated absences from the business economics class worry me, weigh on my mind, but I am actively choosing the warm, group project participation over a class I have registered for but have never attended. The idea of contacting the professor never enters my mind.

Finally, I decide I must go.

As I walk to the neglected business economics course, I see the group games people wrapping up a session. They are energized and talking to each other while I trudge off to face the uncomfortable unknown.

As I walk, I worry. Will I be able to catch up? What assignments have they completed? Will the professor have noticed I am missing? My concerns fill my mind.

Just outside the room, I can hear the professor tell the class to get out their graphing calculators—there is a test today!

I feel totally unprepared. No graphing calculator, I rifle through a bin to find scratch paper for a test as my heart sinks.

I walk into the room and approach the professor, who seems to know who I am despite my habitual truancy. I begin to try to explain myself—

“Hello, I am registered for this class…”

He cuts me off, sternly—

“Not as of today you are not.”

I am flooded with relief, but still worried. Do I need to confirm with the registrar that I have been dropped from the course? Will there be an academic penalty? Why have I paid for a course I did not attend?

Walking back, puzzling over the purloined business economics class, I see my fellow students engaging in a group activity.

They are arranging packaged snacks like sticky buns, coffee cakes, and Twinkies on folding tables so that an unseen cohort can sample them.

The contrast is stark. A minority group of students is facing a rigorous test, while most appear to be setting out and sampling junk food.

My last thought before the dream is over—

This is college? How strange.

Carrying Light

Words for light

Category Archives: Poetry