The Fallen

Rain falls to earth;

Earth falls through space

To the sun;

The sun falls

Through the galaxy;

And somewhere
At the edge of the known,

The Master watches over

The fallen, because

He is

The only One

Not falling.

Photo of Earth taken from Apollo 17. Photo from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Earth.

Rituals

There's comfort in the rituals

That rope us to repeating patterns.

Same snooze button, same cup, same coffee,

I passed that building today and yesterday,

And the day before,

With the same thought looping through my mind.

Tiring of the same, I revolt,

Eager to step outside my role.

Yet, even when I abandon the inner circle,

The rituals come with me.

The coffee cup must follow me relentlessly

To any foreign land or domicile,

And while I am deep walking in newness,

The building that I used to pass each day

Loops again through my mind

To comfort me.

Further In

“Further up and further in.”

The place where I began is not the place I will end.

I started as one who had nothing, willing, but not able.

In a dream, in a vision, He came to me;

By night, He sang to me of His love, His home.

I asked Him for mercy, and He made his dwelling in me.

But my dwelling place fades as a blade of grass, and thus

I must travel to His.

He said “Further up and further in,”

And so I chase the God who made me

Into the shadows, across shaky ground, and

Over hills that hinder sight of my destination.

Never can I stop to build a home here;

Always I must move ahead to some other place.

I ache for you, my home, I ache for you!

My hands, my feet, my heart, these are real,

But not as really real as what lies far ahead.

Stepping onward, I dislodge all that holds me here,

And follow, “further up and further in.”

Teaching

School starts tomorrow. Need I say more?

This is actually the most prepared and least nervous I have felt on the night before the first day. I hope that is a sign of good things to come.

A teacher friend told me not to quit teaching until I have taught for five years. Then, he said, I would be able to truly judge whether I like it or not. And now, here I am on my fifth year!

I would write more, but in the spirit of procrastination, I have left work for myself to do that I must get done tonight.

Good night!

The Wide-Eyed Innocent

I like to play the part

Of the wide-eyed innocent.

I cut off the cynical

Voice that commentates through

Every situation with the kindness of

A jilted girlfriend.

I drown the mouth that punishes,

Shooting barbs cloaked

In marshmallows.

I stuff the third ear,

The ear that only hears snakes

Hissing in the symphony:

Then I am ready.

A caution to you

If your aspirations ask for acting

The part of

The wide-eyed innocent, it

Is played best when,

In your heart, that's what

You really are.

My Excuse

I'm really really tired tonight. Tired the sum of a two-day trip to Oklahoma plus a one-day trip to southern Arkansas all within a four-day period. That's why I'm not posting a poem. Maybe tomorrow?

Road Trip

Sweet Baby James,

Ray, you and me,

Traveling fast,

Talking faster.

Young and impatient,

Traveling fast, but still

Traveling far enough to find

Where the words end.

The words went up, down, under, and through,

Rolled out like dice on a table.

Grabbed up, dumped in a cup,

Shake, shake, shake, ro-o-oll...

Until all the combinations of word were spilled,

Then there was silence like eating powdered donuts

With you, me, Ray,

And Sweet Baby James.

Photo from http://www.gribblenation.com/flpics/vintage/