Word Pieces VI
The Fall
Fall once and twice and three times more
of pain and death to tie the score
of deals made far past knowing who
knew then and now it all came true
When love bought life for us and all
between the now and ‘fore the Fall
Was it known then that you would see
the Son of Love lost all for me
Mia Dolorosa
I saw it clearly on His face
a blood stained tearing of disgrace
The weary look upon his yoke
a cross a burden not a joke
of place or space of long spent time
of giving, teaching God's sent rime
A cold and empty word said He
would warm a soul as lost as me
But deaf are we his long lost race
to hear it clearly from the place
of Him who cared enough to fall
from up the cross to save us all
So here we sit among our loss
with hate and fear an empty troth
full up with self and pity me
The soul who cannot love but Thee
It is Finished
It ended then and never will
be more to some than pay the bill
of heart and soul and promise made
be near to them that close the shade
between the heart that feels but naught
and the great gift of Love that bought
for them a chance of God’s great grace
a fair and lovely resting place
Games
Hyke
poot it between
urolegs
anone, antoo
lavel it to the
stopshort
of making a
be nine specticle
of the
Allfun-Allus
Wonderfool
World
of
Sports
Sunset Ballet
who can say what color
is the somewhere night
between today and tomorrow
poets say a new sky blue
pink perhaps is the hue
good night (almost)
where soft white messages
are written with fine brushes
on moving orange parchment
where cool breezes carry the
percussive red interruptions
of the mocking bird of us
even man moves now slower
than he did high at noon
before he was brought to
in the pointalistic
painting of twilight
but even a good night
brings a sunless dry
spell the world now
with the ugly sounds of neon
arches and sirens raging
with dogs fit to be tied
singing endless protests of
the thief who took the sun away
and causes the heart to
pull up the covers alone
oft times it seems longer
the distance of turning the head
to see the same on the other
side of the world
when day breaks and
God is busy wiping all tears
from our eyes
Sympathy
sounds like gold wind crests
across an azure sea
warm beats that pound a heart
in tune with harmony
pure strings alive with breath
of poets past in need
together all in one create
St. Matthew Passion
a seed
a simple seed planted
no production
no fanfares
no songs of high thanksgiving
no lofty words of proper speak
this way or that
just simply a week of passion
a week of friend turning against friend
of trial and punishment
of prayer in a lonely garden
of meal taking with bread and wine
of thanks to God who planned all
this in an upper room
then just another thief is hung on
just another tree
a dismal week near Bethany
take this then Matthew one simple seed
a time or two later and
co-create with Christ the
message of the angels
make it something of monumental proportions
make it worth yourself in gold and
speak with the word of man
the breath of God
take this then Johann
timeless centuries later like
Matthew and Mark and
countless others who made
something of little
much of naught
take the seed now and see what
you and Christ can do together
take these tools and re-create
the Christ
the Passion
the Thought
much is made again
much much more than the seed itself
reaching more
inspiring more
filling more
the universe with the
spectacle and wonder of the
Passion of God
take this now all
the seed built
inspiration upon inspiration
man upon man
take these treasures each with the
divine commission to share
in the making of a universe
and soon in Godtime
a company of believers
will cover the earth with song
and dance with high thanksgiving
and God shall wipe away all
tears from their eyes