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Showing posts from March, 2017

Haiku 8 - privilege - spring 2017

Privilege is real.
Apologies are hollow.
Dismantle it now.

Haiku 7 - forty days - spring 2017

O these forty days
a journey of solitude walking together

say her name

(a poem)

her name is
     Rahab
but they call her
     a harlot
     a prostitute
          as if one can do that
               alone
          or
               by choice
they mock her
     behind her back
all in an attempt
to strip her
of her
     humanity
     narrative
     dignity
     identity
     story
     life
yet,
there she stands
     in power
in the pages of history
an important
     person
a transformative
     influence
a woman
a mother
     of hope
Rahab
in a world that would rather
     silence her
          than hear her
               voice
                    speak her
                         witness,
     call her names
          than acknowledge her
               strength
                    to write her own
                         story
she has a name
the one given her
     by her mother
it's not the one you call her
for her name is
     Rahab.

Haiku 6 - self - spring 2017

Look beyond your self.
Discover the beauty there.
Look within your self.

Haiku 5 - See - spring 2017

You see me see you.
Do I see you seeing me? We must strive to see.

Haiku 4 - Water - spring 2017

Water is cleansing. Water sustains every life. Water is sacred.

Haiku 3 - spring 2017

use your eyes to see not just what is before you; look further, deeper

Haiku 2 - spring 2017

Let us remember
Divine breath fills you, fills me,
And the space between.

Haiku - March 20 - First Day of Spring

Shedding the old skin;
Constrained ways now left behind;
Behold the new life.

It Becomes Easier

If I allow myself
to understand you
as an abstraction,
it becomes much easier
to minimize your needs.

If I allow myself
to perceive you
as a generalization,
it becomes much easier
to justify my prejudice.

If I allow myself
to regard your life
as an oversimplification,
it becomes much easier
to confirm my bias.

If I allow myself
to see you
as you
it becomes much easier
to discover humanity.

Dry Bones

The institution
     concerns itself with
     butts in the pews
          and
     dollars in the plate
And the Spirit is grieved
As people,
     people full of the
          breath of God,
     people made in the
          image of the divine,
have
     no water,
     no food,
     no homes,
     no mercy,
     no justice,
     no peace.
Dry bones,
     a lifeless representation
          of the Body
     it is called to be.
Can these dry bones
          live?
Only you know,
          Lord.
Fill us with
     breath.
Animate us with
     Spirit.
Recreate us in your
     image.
And the dry bones
     begin to
          rattle.
Sinew.
Tendons.
Muscle.
Flesh.
Breath.
Ruah.
Life.
Call.
Proclamation.
Good news
     to the poor;
release
     to the captives;
sight
     to the blind;
freedom
     to the oppressed;
favor
     to all.
And the dry bones
     begin to
          rattle.

Of people...

let us be people of wells not walls; bridges not trenches; tables not fences; toward not from; with not against; together not separate of people let us be.

As She Moves

As She Moves
(a poem)

There is no
     predicting
     controlling
the movement
of the Spirit
     neither
          where she goes,
     nor
          where she calls
          us to move.
She is
     not static;
She is
     dynamic;
She is
     full of power
as she moves.
No one
     can set
          her limits
     "You may go
          this far,
     but no farther."
No
She soars
     unfettered
     not bound by
          creed,
          orthodoxy,
          practice of faith.
     Religious structures
          cannot
          will not
     hold her back.
Her whirlwind will
     find
          a way,
     make
          a way
where once
     there was none,
And
these dry bones
     live
through her
     power,
     strength,
     will to breathe
          where she chooses.
There is no
     predicting
     controlling
the movement
of the Spirit
     neither
          where she goes
     nor
          where she calls
          us to move.
Nevertheless,
     she persi…

Our Common Humanity

I will not cover
my eyes
pretending not to
see
so I may remain
comfortable.

I will not stop
my ears
pretending not to
hear
so I may remain
disengaged.

I will not close
my mind
pretending not to
know
so I may remain
ignorant.

I will not harden
my heart
pretending not to
feel
so I may remain
distant.

I will not shut
my mouth
pretending not to
care
so I may remain
silent.

It is in our
seeing,
hearing,
knowing,
feeling,
caring
that we discover
our common
humanity.

The Noise

We fill our spaces, our minds, our lives with Noise; everywhere, all the time. Even our time alone has become Noise. Even our relationships have become Noise. Even our worship has become Noise. We claim to enjoy it. It makes me happy, we say. It fills me with joy, we claim. It gives me a distraction, we declare. And indeed it does. The Noise distracts us from the depth found in one another, ourselves, the divine. The depth is what frightens us most. So we fill it with Noise. Until all that remains is the shallows. Yet, it is in the depths we discover life. It is in the depths we find beauty. It is in the depths we realize us. It is time we find the courage to silence the Noise.

I Need These Ashes

Spoken word poem on Ash Wednesday 2017.

I Need These Ashes

Stanza 1: Humanity

Tonight,
I need these ashes…
I need them
in a way
I have never needed them
before.
Sure,
I wish I could
move directly
quickly
to celebration,
to resurrection
without these forty days;
these heavy forty days.
But tonight,
I need these ashes
for desiring anything else
would deny
the essence
of my humanity.
My humanity
that gritty existence
formed from clay
filled
with the breath
of the divine.
Humus -
is the “dirt” at my root
Adamah -
is the very “ground” from which I came.
It is from the earth
that I am formed;
it is to this earth
that I shall return.
Often I pretend as if I am something more;
Often I live as if I am so much less
than this human form.
But I have been called
to bear the weight of this flesh.
These ashes remind me
that I have been marked
eternally claimed
by the One
in whose Image
I have been made.
Tonight,
I need these ashes
to remind me of who I am.
I am human,
nothing more,
nothing less.
And y…
I open my eyes,
and there I see
You
standing before me.
At the same time
you see me.
We see each other
differently.
Are our eyes to blame
for seeing
the beautiful differences
we see
as a threat to
our individual humanity.
Or is the culprit the
lens of tribal insecurity
inherited from
the self proclaimed protectors
of our "safety".
We must struggle
to see deeply;
beauty
and
strength
are to be found
in the depth
of our technicolor
diversity
not boring
monochromatic
uniformity.

enough

shh
listen

you are
accepted

you are
loved

you are
enough

yes,
you are

shh
listen

Human Experience

Breathe...
Rest...
Feel...
Do not dismiss
This
Your
Human
Experience
It is here
That we are met
By the divine
You
Have nothing
To prove
You're
Human