There are questions you need to ask
because the question needs to be asked
even though you know
the answer is no.
You ask
because it will change
the people asked,
and you.

There are questions you need to ask
because it’s part of the process
even though you’re sure
the answer is yes
and when the answer is no
you are devastated
and it changes you
more than you can imagine
and you hope
the people you asked.

There are questions you need to ask
even though there’s no answer
that you can see
and still your soul cries out
as you wait for
the promised change.

A Eucharist of Tears

It’s not like
my hip is out of joint
from wrestling
all night long
with an angel.

It’s not like
I’ve had to beg food
from a starving widow
as I flee
the angry priests of Baal.

It’s not like
I’ve hung my harp
on the willow trees
of Babylon.

It’s not like
I’ve seen my Son
hung on a tree.

It’s not like
I’ve been beaten
for seeking freedom
or the right to vote.

It’s not like
I’ve been denied ordination
because of my gender
or orientation.

it’s not like
I’ve fled a war torn city
on a barely floating boat
only to see
my dreams wash ashore,

It’s not like
I am a young woman,
shaking hands,
in the receiving line
at my mother’s wake.

Hope deferred,
hope dashed,
makes all souls sick
and I think of these
my brothers and sisters
who share
the Eucharist of tears
day and night.

I know my friends mean well
when they tell me I am bright
I am a good person
and that God has
a wonderful plan for me.

Yet it sounds a bit
like the young woman’s friends
“Cheer up!
It’s not the end of the world.
You have your whole life ahead of you.”
and I take another helping
of tears.

Finding Skittles on the Altar

A form of poetry I’ve been very interested in recently is called ‘found poetry’. Here is what I’ve found recently.

The second and sixth stanza are from a political campaign, but I changed one word in the latter stanza for more impact. The first is a comment a friend made about those quotes. The third stanza is from Matthew 20. The fourth is from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, and the fifth is from the musical Jesus Christ, Superstar. I end off with putting the question in the form of the questions asked during baptism in the Episcopal Church.

While some people looko at the political quote as a poor political analogy, I think it is really a great analogy for the Christian life.

Eating the skittles
is following
the way of the cross.

“If I had a bowl of skittles
and I told you
just three would kill you.
Would you take a handful?”

“You do not know what you are asking, Jesus replied.
“Are you able to drink the cup I am going to drink?”
“We are able,” the brothers answered.
“You will indeed drink My cup,” Jesus said.

“After supper he took the cup of wine;
and when he had given thanks,
he gave it to them, and said,
"Drink this, all of you:
This is my Blood of the new Covenant,
which is shed for you
and for many
for the forgiveness of sins.
Whenever you drink it,
do this for the remembrance of me."

“I will drink Your cup of poison
Nail me to Your cross and break me”

“Let’s end the politically correct agenda
that doesn’t put God first”

“If I had a bowl of skittles
and I told you
just three would kill you.
Would you take a handful?”

“I will, with God's help.”

Summer Reverie

I never tire of the sound of the tires
grinding the gravel road
to the summer camp.

On those lovely evenings,
I’d loaf at the campsite
with a loaf of French bread
assorted cheese
and wine.

Or I’d head into town
for my sole meal
of stuffed sole
or perhaps scallops
au gratin
gently baked.

Now, the autumn moon shines
on freshly picked apples
and I pine for the pines in the sands of the Cape
with their wind gnarled branches withstanding the storms,
their long winding roots traversing the path.

Mornings I’d trip on those roots on my trip
to the surf on a trail lined with beach plums.

The seaside solitude of early morning
was only marred
by trash
disowned by others:

lost toys
by frenzied families,
the tools of the trade
of fishermen
on trawlers passing by;
I once saw a saw
of unknown origin
washed ashore.

Standing quietly
by the remains of a campfire
I thought to myself
even here,
I can help
restore beauty
and I picked up the cans
of an earlier party.

(Categories: )


It was a special vase
full of magic and grace
that we acquired
fifteen years ago.

Over the years
it had tumbles
gained cracks
but stayed intact.

in was smashed
beyond repair
and I just don’t care
any more.

So I sat under the broom tree
with the prophets of old
and sulked.
Then the Lord came to me
and said,
“You know that’s not true.
You know you care
more than you can stand.”

I replied,
“Yes Lord,
but I just don’t have the energy
to pick up
all the broken pieces.”

Then the Lord replied,
“but I do.”
So the Master Craftsman
gathered several apprentices
and we all worked together
picking up the broken pieces
building a new vase
with the cracks filled with gold
even stronger
and more beautiful
than before.

(Categories: )
Syndicate content