Showing posts from December, 2016

Sabbath on the Page, Winter

What can you hear in a 
       winter sky? Trees
       sleeping, sap coursing
       slowly stopped by 
       these northern climes and
       their accompanying chill.
The sound of sunlight, settled
       like a theater's best ending,
       shadowplay kept for
       juncos and chickadees.
Gray like warm flannel on a 
       winter's night by the
       fire, celestial feathers
       cover like a goose's wing
       over her chicks.

I tune my pencil, painting
       this poem of treesound, cloudstill
       and year's end, listening
       for tomorrow's song.

The Word

Son, ferried within water, the womb
        of his mother. She, comforted
        on the back of a donkey,
        led at the hand by a hopeful man,
        father, to the House of Bread.

Seer, sounding words that seared the 
         hearts of those who heard, time
         in the temple as He lives into His
         name, declarations undoing the 
         calm, intentional unsettling.

Sovereign, carried as costly cargo
         atop a beast of burden
         led among shouts, disciples 
         offering praises as He entered
         the city, Abode of Peace, and
         exited, a

Saviour, ascending the hill, neither
         ferried nor carried, but sent
         to be buried with threats and 
         words sending Him to the
         grave where he stayed, quietly
         undoing death, then moved
         this time alone.

Love led him out on his own
         two feet, called forth by the
         Father, leading Him into the
         world, fleshing the Word,
         leading the Way.