Selections from "Art Before Artist"
A PSALM OF SONGS
The night star, the one night star
It shines in the vast distance
Between hearts asleep and our insistence
On pining for hope, on pining for grace
In these our psalms of war and wilderness
You are the snow falling
In my imagination on a summer’s eve.
Cool me, refresh me, let me see
The playful mystery
Of your song of songs.
Your are the snow falling
The quiet firework of icicles
Showering down, a star’s light shimmering through
As I watch in hope, pining for grace,
Feeling each spark and canticle leave Love’s trace.
A NIGHT SO LONG AGO
You placed the star, Lord,
To guide the hoof prints toward hope
On a cool and quiet desert evening
So long ago, a night so long ago.
One hope still guides sandals,
Business shoes, and loafers
Toward the feet of promise made flesh
So long ago, on a night so long ago.
Do angels still sing alleluia
Under the watchful stare of Heaven’s lights
With celestial wings resting on the wind
Like so long ago, on that night so long ago?
I AM/ STILL HERE
You are present in my waking moments,
A whisper behind the morning alarm.
A calm, confident word spoken
“I AM. . . still here.”
You remain somewhere nearby
While my wandering thoughts
Search the landscape for picture perfect
Backdrops behind the trees, buttes, and leas
For the breath of something eternal.
I am still here looking,
Searching, and praying for rain to cleanse
The tree and mountain tops of a filth
I think I can see covering the horizon.
You remain still in the moment before sleep
As willing or hesitant eyelids submit
To the call of rest and dreams by a voice
Repeating your words of comfort “I AM,
Still here waiting. Waiting.”
NETHERWORLD
Give me a blizzard on a late winter’s morning, Lord,
Not this cold, lifeless netherworld
Between November’s wind and the April breeze.
The rain you send to our land, Lord,
In due season brings life and joy to all
But when your world lies asleep,
The falling rain feels like Heaven
weeping over the dead.
Awake my soul, my Christ, to the beauty
You have created for your pleasure to share
With my brother and sister souls
Who travel along together down the trail
You continue to pave and blaze out of love.
You neither abandon nor defeat the wounded, Lord,
With the changing of the season.
Awake me to the thrill and tranquility
The land groans to teach the one who walks
With a shy yet hopeful gleam in his eyes,
The reflection of star light in the cold,
cloudless night.
ON GOD’S REVENGE
You are no less my God when I fall
Down the hardwood stairs sin by sin.
You are still there when I rise to kneel
For the seven times seventieth time.
How Satan must laugh when I ask forgiveness
For sins I can’t seem to feel sorry for
Or sometimes even lack the desire to or
Muster the strength to will appropriate shame.
But I know you are there, Lord,
Waiting for me to come around.
Maybe you are more Father in these moments,
Willing to hold me in your arms again.
What a comfort to know my God
What a joy to know that you, Lord,
Are no less my God when I fall,
When my sins would justly be abhorred.
To know you, Father, more dear to me
In my weakest hours. My saddest days
Must hurt the Evil One more than the sin itself
Hurt you first and brought on my shame.
You amaze me, Father, how you use sin
To lead me back to your word.
The word read preceding a return
To your Word made manifest in this your world.
Grace doesn’t abound because of sin
But instead abounds in spite of the sin in me.
How sweet your revenge, Lord, how sweet.
How I love the way you justify your way toward Man..
RESTLESS NIGHTS ON THE DUNE SEA
Night after night
On a damp- sheeted bed
Requests for relief
Strained to raise themselves
From kiln- dried lips
Baked, cracked, and split.
A heart sweltered in desert heat.
Relief would not come.
Hope parched and crawling
Across the dune sea
Slower and slower
With each passing prayer.
Relief would not come.
“Thy will be done,” they prayed.
Never to raise dry
Requests again.
“Thy will be done,”
They prayed.
Sudden rain responded,
Washing away the heat
And the doubt.
Another drought has come.
Will the rain?
A PSALM OF FRIENDSHIP
We all have our ups and downs,
This I know,
We laugh and love,
Hate and cry.
Don’t ask why.
Life is a treasure chest
Filled with golden coins.
Each side glittering,
Glowing like an unopened gift.
Piled high are these wonders
One over another,
Priceless gold uncounted.
Dig deeper.
Each coin reveals its own wealth.
And in joy we plunge deeper,
Hungry for more and more still
Unwilling to let a single one go.
This is how we cherish friends
Both new and old.
Only new love
Can replace love lost!
And all that we love once
Becomes a part of our whole.
That is why we cry
Because we love.
And to lose a friend
Means to lose a part of oneself.
For if there is no evil
Why do we mourn?
If there is no pain
Why do we scorn
That which separates,
Makes us incomplete?
If there is no evil
Then how do we explain death?
HOPKINS, BLAKE, AND WHITMAN SING
In a land without light my Emanation shines.
Still lights pulse yellow- red hot through
a burnt bushel,
Melting the pitch with tongues aflamed by Holy Fire.
In an open space between dark steel spectre’s lines
The brown out electrifies the charged humid air,
Sparking unseen electrodes on itching ear tips.
In the midst of darkness I will sing, sing I will
For in the night air under stars hope dances wild
Before the yearned for ark of light filled forgiveness.
In the midst of darkness Emanations must sing
With the cries of rocks, palm leaves,
mountains, green- firred pines.
I must, I will, on American hills: I sing.
In the lauded purple majesty’s western lines,
In the tan sanded mesas of God’s dry country,
In the yellow filled green husks, amber grains:
our plains.
In the midst of darkness, the heat of light rises
By the power of song. Sing to Creator/King,
Emanations sing away the spectral powers.
In a land devoid of light, Emanations shine
Like candle over bushel, waxing great: Shining City
Descending on the great hill. We will sing.
A PSALM OF MAY
Let the red, let the yellow, blue, and green
Streams of hope promise lavender sunsets.
I will walk along the river’s muddy shores
Hearing low whispers: “peace, peace, peace.”
I will walk below jet gray skyscrapers
That prick the passing elephant- pastel clouds.
The word on the streets rushes, hushes
Rips, lifts, chills, thrills, bends, rends, sends the eyes
Upward! Back then forth. Streets then alleys then. . .
Gone. Fear, no euphoria. Half- known, unknown.
The rush. The wonder. The whoosh of mid- May.
Hints of rebirthing showers. Word, inhaled
That past moment, thrusts back through vocal chords
Exhales: joy. Timeless moment.
Alone, not alone. Walking along
With the thousand voice choir singing, pleading
With unconscious thoughts.
The rocks cried out: “peace
Like blue between clouds.” Love bent beautiful
As yellow sunflower petals, blue- green
Flowing blades spread across great plains toward
That unpicked cherry which descends to ascend.
To that end I walk. Not to the sunset
But to the sunrise. Each song passed in, passed out.
STANDING & FALLING
Standing in faith,
Falling in sin.
Rise up again
To aching knee
And pray
And rise again.
Kingdoms rise up
And fall down in aged attrition,
But the soul of a man
Takes hit after
Hit after arrow
After arrow,
Yet will rise to one knee
And stand.
And, yes, fall down
And cry “shame, shame
On me!”
And rise again
To knee and stand
And sling an arrow
Straight into the demon’s heart.
BARGAINING WITH SUPERSTITION
My prayers to you, Father,
Often take on another form
Than praise, repentance, and forgiveness.
So often I look to cut a deal:
My desire for my abstinence
From a certain sin, real or perceived.
Why am I surprised
When this prayer is met with silence?
Do you really wait to barter
Good deeds for great rewards,
Or do I bargain with superstition,
Hoping to appease some household god
In order to attain my latest request?
Then my answer comes:
Ask what I will,
What you offer you offer without condition,
And any condition I offer
Is no more than my vain glory
Offered at the Vanity Fair.
FILL THE GRAY VOID, MIGHTY ONE
Fill the gray void within my heart, Mighty One.
Fill the caverns of unresolve with your still,
Soft presence. Warm the numb walls
Which I must call my breathless lungs
For I cannot breathe within this vacuum of space.
Rushing Wind, restore the breath of Life.
Warm a heart grown cold,
You whose word spoke the heavens into existence.
Renew my dying heart with your Spirit.
Restore the pulse. Renew my life with perfect blood.
Let it rush through my aching veins.
Let the warmth it gives be my comfort.
And I will cry again tonight and again at daybreak.
Then I will know you are holy
When the dead rise again. Lord give life
To my carnal body, willing corpse.
And when the morning dew lifts up
From the ground, glistening in the sunlight,
So shall my cries, when discovered,
Turn to singing as your light falls on me.
Extend now your very essence, restore your joy.
Today my mind will dwell on lighter things.
Today restored lungs will exhale a new song.
And my body will sing with my soul:
There is joy. The Lord is good.
Joy forever. He is everlasting.
There is joy. Sing to the Lord.
Joy everlasting. Sing chorus forever.
WITH UNUTTERABLE GROANINGS
Jesus.
The words come slow.
A moment of rest.
Is all I ask.
Why must?
Why can’t?
Jesus, I want
To lay it down.
To offer praise
But my mind, it wanders.
Back to
Jesus,
I want.
Guilty.
I feel guilty.
Jesus
Calm my rushed mind.
Why must?
Why can’t?
Why can’t I move past?
Jesus,
I praise.
Jesus, I praise
Jesus, I praise
Jesus, I praise. Jesus.
Lift curse.
Lift.
Jesus.
Thine is the power.
Lord, oh Lord of Life
Thy will be done.
Jesus, Lord of my life.
Deliver me.
Set me free.
Jesus. In your name I pray.
Amen.
YOUR PRAYER
My Father, you are in Heaven;
Praise is what I owe you
Praise from my flesh, praise from my spirit;
Bring your kingdom down from Heaven
Your physical place so far away from here;
We want your will to be done down
Here on Earth like it is in your Heaven. But it isn’t.
Give all your children bread daily
Raise the cup of living water to their thirsty lips;
Forgive my errant thoughts, words, and deeds.
Teach me to forgive and to forget
The thoughts, the deeds, the words of others
That molest my peace of mind;
Lord, lead me through ancient,
innocent mountain paths
Far away from the valley of sudden temptation.
Free me from the evil intent
of mortals and immortals;
For your creation is your kingdom
Rebel or servant, evil or hero
For you are the source of power
You are the source of glory.
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