“I will never leave you nor forsake you”

Over the course of my life I have been booted out of a variety of clubs..oh…I mean communities of faith.   Always for taking a stand on some issue, always with the subsequent silence and loss.

Financial accountability. Child safety.  Confronting greed, lust or both–there are all kinds of ways to trudge down the “narrow road” in christianity.

Which is sometimes confusing and disorienting but never totally forsaken.

Jesus is there, saying what he says to all of us–I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

We will never get that kind of promise from anyone else.  We humans are nothing if not forsakers. We bolt at a pin drop.

Not him.  Jesus stays with us.

And always he says the same thing. “You are in good company, darling…always.”

“Most Americans” and “This message has no content”

There are these nuggets of meaning (or anti-meaning) floating around

Zika fears, Pokéstops

Two presidential candidates

Each holding silk screened banners

The lesser of two evils!

2016, 

When “most Americans”

Were once again depicted by 

The hastily gathered

Opinions of just a few of us

Through the ghostly-lit rectangular screen

The message seems important somehow

But when we look further

The news is bleak-

This message has no content

Quest

gone too long

A litany of good-byes 

Signifying everything 

We want from Light

The shapes of letters resemble

Hands raised in supplication

Bottomless things

Somewhere in between I find you

In the story you beg me not to tell

Even though you are the hero of it

The boy who quietly 

Saves the headstrong girl

From so many foolish choices

Apparition 

after years measured in either sabbaticals or fists

The woman in the box 

Realizes she has only been an apparition 

Sorting through previous 

Versions of “her”

She sees one to nurture– 

No lines around the eyes or heart

An ordinary girl

Who believed in human intervention

Fragile thing, scoops her up

Just a bird in the hand;

Looks for a place to set her down

If only to assess 

the utility of wings

Monsters of righteousness

Imagine them as you will but never

Assume your scepticism will make them 

Mythological again

In the smoke of our discarded daughters 

/commerce of indifference 

Shoots craps in crowded rooms

Sweat-palmed cash for common shame

Summon  these 

Monsters of righteousness

From this fire we

have made of love.

Thermal Paper

I try to write you

Words of place

Search for ways to make monuments out of sheer

Thermal paper…

Keep your receipts

Each time the shopkeep

Asks us the question 

…need your receipt?

Say yes Darling

Take these scraps of who we are 

Were, will be

You and me, Baby

This inkless, thermal magic only you

Can make your indelible mark on “we”

Words written on paper 

Miraculously appearing with just the fire 

Of the friction 

Between our fingers

Underestimating Dragons

I love them when they snake totemistically through the clouds, smoke before the storm

And when they are filigree-perfect by the pool, along the slender branches of new trees

Skin the same green as the leaves

But when it is the serpent 

Climbing vertically toward the sparrowlets,

I cannot either 

Turn, ignore 

Or observe with the objective skill of a naturalist

intervene

Knowing grace is more than words before a meal

Or a sticker you wear to church on your lapel

Grace is the Hand that

saves the sparrow

Even at the mortal expense

Of the dragon.