Tag: poetry

Trust?

#writing201 assignment for the day…”Trust” as an acrostic with internal rhyme…yep…this was a challenge!

 

Trust?

Constant posturing, self-need driven bickering
Only leaves us all bleeding, endlessly needing.
Misusing our Book as a hook – to injure other’s belief –
Marking those who are in and those shrouded with sin.

Unless the flood of our blood ceases, quickly decreases
No body will share, even dare to come needy.
I will be me and not part of we.
One trusting no one is perfectly done.
Never to sup, sip a cup filled with love.

 

As a member of and a leader within the United Methodist Church, when I hear the word trust it brings about many very positive images. However, our current denominational mood might well be seen by some as one of mistrust or lack of trust of one another. This saddens me. The most important part of this poem to me is the acrostic that calls us to something greater.

An Ode to Friedman

A Whirlwind

A dig through the past for some kin,

Unearthed stories – some slathered with sin.

Rose colored glasses now gone;

System ties travel on.

Where I am could be right where they’ve been.

 

Thanks to Edwin Friedman and my many teachers and coaches from The Center for Family Process – especially Coach Mickie – for allowing me to take an incredible systems journey.

Peace!

#writing201

Water – two Haikus

Water of Singleness – Again

Tears of joy fell down
Little weapons soaking cheeks
A marriage over.

 

Our Water

Drops of water fell
Sprinkled on an infant’s head
Calling youth to death.

#writing201

My Home Among the Hills

wpid-PaperArtist_2014-03-24_11-00-46.jpegBased on Luke 4:24-30

Inspired by http://www.pray-as-you-go.org

Yeah, I am a child of the mountains –
a “West-By-God-Virginian.”

But why do I build my city on a hill?

Is it the place where I best see –
the danger coming
the glorious sunrise
the gathering storms
the grandest views of creation?

Or is it just the place
where even when I don’t feel safe…

I can force those who assail
my foundation
my beliefs
my worldview
to the edge of a precipice
where they can view their doom.

I build my city on a hill
but I often forget.

The cliff is not there for my enemies
or the prophets who unsettle me.
It is there for me…
to shout until the Word echoes
to step off…
to fail, to fall, and to flail.

And to find myself
in the very hand of God.

an abandoned vessel

cropped-img_2234-e1353720642505an abandoned vessel

An empty water jar bakes in the heat
in a place where people are called
“sin-filled.”
My Lord sits beside it,
tracing his finger around the rim.

I join the other followers as we come to him with our food.

Someone gave him something to eat?
Someone gave him something to drink?
Surely not.
Not here.

We are among those people.

Yet Jesus says he does not thirst.
Yet Jesus says he is full.

Why do I focus upon my definitions?

 Of hunger…
Of thirst…
Of those who are sinful…

My Lord sits by the edge of a bottomless well
tracing his finger
along the edge
of abandoned definitions.

Based upon John 4:5-42

Inspired by www.pray-as-you-go.org for March 22/23, 2014