Flames

Do not pull yourself from the fire too soon
That heat has work to do on you,
and the Master Forger knows far better
than metals she is pounding
into plowshares
and amulets
and swords.

Do not curse the flames that strengthen,
that make shiny and sharp
the dull iron of the heart.
That Master forger is working,
 pounding night and day,
to turn you into something useful
and beautiful
and strong.

Dreaming

You are like a new-wed bride
who on her wedding night forgets
her nuptial vows and that golden
spouse who lies beside her,
and dreams herself lonely at the alter,
abandoned, made a cuckhold
by some fairer lass,
while her new-wed groom above
supine body hovers, contemplating
supple lines of cheek and lip,
wondering what visions play behind
sleeping eyes.

You cry out in your dreaming,
(and who wouldn't?) but know that even now
some sweet lover is caressing your shoulder,
smoothing your hair on the pillow,
waiting, just waiting,
for you to awake.

Sure, eventually the Sun will rise
and you'll wake up naturally, without even trying;
but why not try a little now,
since this dream has turned so bad,
to crack an eyelid
before the dawn arrives?

Devotion

I am a concubine for my Lord
and poor prostitute,
never demanding my wages,
accepting sweet words
as payment.

And when that pimp,
the World,
comes looking after me
my hands are empty,
my pockets barren.

And yes, I will be beaten,
each lash sweet
with the memory of my Lord's
embrace.

Mount Helena in Winter

snow falling
through lodgepole pines
beautiful white

Poem for Brigid

Oh, sweet Brigid, sing in my breast
Of light and love's warm sun rays.
'Tis time we laid old maid Winter to rest
And made room for your warmer days.

Oh, sweet Brigid, weave me a spell,
That will brighten the cloud-dreary skies.
Bring my heart water from your sacred well
Fill my ears with sounds of new-born cries.

Oh, sweet Brigid, light me a fire
Cast your light that will drive out all dark.
Kindle my soul and my spirit entire
With the song of the Robin and Meadowlark.

We've waited long nights for your sweet return,
Sweet Brigid, sweet Brigid, for you we have yearned!
Yes, we've waited long nights for your sweet return,
Sweet Brigid, sweet Brigid, for you we have yearned!

The Latest Christian Teen Devotional Excercise

www.saddlebacking.com

Could this be the future of Christianity??? Let's hope so!

Friendly Advice

Peace does not in sadness live,
Nor in a heavy heart can Love reside,
For only unrest can a sadness give,
And a heavy heart cannot open wide.

Go you then, and live in Joy,
And let your Joy a beacon be.
Look you for light in many things,
And in many things a light you'll see.

Know what is come is soon to pass,
So take now time to treasure this,
This grain of sand in the hourglass,
Oh what a shame it would be for you to miss!

See how it sparkles and it glitters so,
In one brief moment's quick descent,
Giving its all for this one show,
And this one show for you was meant.

So perk your ears and watch you close,
And love each moment's brief display,
And feel you things and sniff your nose,
You can fill your life with Love this way.

I tell you this because I Love you so,
And it hurts my heart to hear you cry.
There are so many things I would have you know,
Like your heart is a bird, if you let it fly.

I'll put the key in the latch, but it's yours to turn.
So turn it, turn it! That bird has wings!
It needs open sky if it is to learn,
To fly, to soar...to perch on things.

But with your worries you've built a cage,
And each day a layer to the walls you add,
And when you grow cramped you moan and rage,
And claim that the world has made you sad.

But I know a secret that you have forgot,
And this cage that you've built, I can help you unlock it.
Listen, you're searching for something you've got,
And the key to this cage, you'll find in your pocket.

Love is the key and the sky and your wings
And life a gift not made to last.
So hurry, go now, Love you many things,
For today's tomorrow will soon be past.

So let now Peace in Happiness live,
And let now Love in our hearts reside,
And happy Love let us receive and give,
And let our hearts be open wide.

For Peace is treasure that will not rust,
And Love the only truth we can always trust.

Waiting

Sometimes I am patient as Death,
or Earth
awaiting the return of all things.
Other times impatience wells
and I am kin to fruitflies, anxious to procreate
and pass on.
So often I feel that I am,
and have,
and can do, nothing.
And this pleases me and makes me
think of you

Keeping Time

I could spend the whole night

getting back to my stone-chipping roots
hand and skin where flint and obsidian
once hid.

The slap is sharp

but makes nothing,
slices nothing, and I sweat but for
quivering air, and no animal falls lifeless to feed
the beloved community.

Quivering air and a tapping foot,

a song to lift the melancholy
and time to keep it all in place. The children grow, they turn away
and back and have children of their own and get old and die.

Our flint-knapping marks the rhythm of their passing,

we leave only flakes and arrowheads to mark our time
and quivering air in a rhythm that always is,
even when we have ceased from playing it.