Category: Poetry

Tell a Bible Story

There was a group of men
Who loved a casual meeting
Who said, “Let’s quit this crusty way
Of scripture preaching-teaching!”

Their cry was strong
Their evidence long
“Where Jesus walks, there we meet
HE WAS NOT AN EXEGETE!”

“He told good stories, didn’t go
From verse to verse telling so
What Paul and Peter said.
In that postmoderns dread.”

So met they did as a church
With the catchy theme, “for truth we search”
Mouths were opened for the feeding
Desperate hearts for living words

But all they got was fizz and froth
Instead of meat they swallowed broth
Barraged with everybody’s “story”
Missing out on all the glory

Thus in the end, it was ironic
Those who claimed to have the tonic
Purged word from Sunday morning
And gave cause for spiritual mourning

Be Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak

Aaron, Aaron, choose a softer seed
Do not break the bruiséd reed
Be quick to listen, slow to speak
Show strength in Christ by being weak
Pray for the ones you want to love
Before you open floodgates of
Empty words and caustic tones
Which only make for shrinking groans
At night when sin and shame come to mind

Oh,
your
aching,
writhing,
wrenching
mind

Doubly you err in such a day
In two ways you have gone astray
First, you loose the rudder of your ship
From the restraint of a godly grip
Secondly you brush aside
With shocking God-ignoring pride
What He above first thinks of you
What He above alone can do
Seek chiefly the favor of your God
Lest your belief be mere facade

A Rose is Still a Rose

If my neurology should be known
My influences shown
Temper understood
And heart exposed
A rose is still a rose
And still beautiful

If you should study sociology
And know me socio-economically
And recognize my needs
And crutches
A good friend
Is still just that

If you will fathom cosmology
And be a sage of astronomy
And understand the mysteries of all creation
And find in it intellectual elation
You are still small
And created

If you will account for my hormones
And play yourself the sexy saxophone
Analyze my stimuli
And appeal to the instinct to procreate
Love is still love
And still supernatural

If you should perceive all possible perspectives
Or see the walls of your own tunnel
Or experience a life of lies
And hypocrisy
Truth and goodness are still real, and knowable
And the light is still shining

And so

If you should slow time and watch light
Travel from flower to eye
And observe the rods and cones on a retina
And forget that the rose is beautiful
You are a fool

A rose is a rose
And beautiful
And real