Once We Begin

(This poem is in response to Emma’s Your Wednesday Writing Prompt 29/03/23)

Once

we begin

maybe twice

we begin and

then we begin

again

But

once we begin

(we’re in His beginning)

we’re beginning again

starting over

the second (and … and …)

chance

He’s not letting us go

At each beginning

and in between

chasing us down

picking us up

a whisper from behind

from right beside

“This is the Way”

and again

and still

the strong arms underneath

bringing us

through

again (again)

Once we begin

we are

His

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:37-39

Photo of rainbow by Jack Bair

In Perfect Time

(This poem is in response to Emma’s Wednesday Writing Prompt of 22/3/23)

In perfect time 

from the beginning 

the beating of His heart 

though world-deaf hearts 

could not hear 

the throbbing of compassion 

passionate blood-pulse 

unchanging shock-vibration 

of His footsteps’ cadence 

fiercely one-track  

until at the right time 

beating in perfect time 

His heart bent down 

and synchronized our hearts 

to His 

and set us walking  

to the rhythm of His love 

to the tempo of delight 

the shout of the finale 

now thundering 

in our hearts  

For at just the right time, while we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God proves His love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:6-8 (Berean Bible) 

If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit. Galatians 5:25 (ESV)

Photo of Metronome by ERTZETIK https://flic.kr/p/fQphQL

The Deep Dark Hole

(This is my response to Emma’s Wednesday Writing Prompt of 1/3/21)

I don’t remember  

very much 

about my childhood 

It’s a deep dark hole 

a blank with the 

occasional camera flash 

garish on an otherwise  

empty page 

Except 

I do remember the bookmobile 

I remember the cozy inside refuge safeness of it 

I remember the smell of the books and the amazing muchness of them 

I remember the excitement of expectation like 

Christmas presents with my name written on them 

Borrowing card stamped and verified 

the stories, the characters, the places  

the victories, the heartaches, the memories 

I held in my arms 

and carried like flashlights  

back down into  

murky nothing 

unrecorded journal 

forbidden history 

censored  

burned 

forgotten  

But  

I remember  

every

book 

Photo from Wikimedia Commons, Interior of Bookmobile by Santeri Viinamäki https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Interior_of_bookmobile_20180517.jpg  

Blinders Off

All of us have  

offended, committed,  

stood back and watched,  

held back what was given to be given,  

looked the other way 

All of us have 

slashed and burned our way through  

broken hearts 

maiming with words and tone 

condemning the innocent,  

condemning the not-so-innocent  

but deeply loved and precious 

crushing footfalls leaving destruction  

hurt and misery behind  

no way to turn back or change that  

The condemned and the condemning  

stumble down the chute to slaughter (the only way to go is forward)  

slipping and falling to bloody knees 

in the slimy muck and manure of wrong doing, wrong thinking,  

panic in the darkness, blinders on,  

heading for the death-gate  

Then God 

steps into the place of slaying 

releases, liberates,  

pardon for the doomed  

removes the blinders 

sudden light reveals 

the slaughter-chute becomes the Way,  

death-gate becomes Life Gate 

for all 

the condemned and the condemning 

Photo, Abandoned Slaughterhouse Ramp, by Lode Van de Velde 

Shaped Like a Man

(this is my response to Emma’s writing prompt for today)

He came

shaped like a man

shaped like an outsider

like all us outsiders

outside the Garden

outside the curtain

outside the vineyard

outside the camp

outside the gate

He walked outside

with all us outsiders

hugging and blessing

and healing

and calling

He came

shaped like a man

shaped like an outsider

to bring all us outsiders

in

He drove out the man, and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life. Genesis 3:24 (ESV)

… outside the curtain that shields the ark of the covenant law, Aaron and his sons are to keep the lamps burning … Exodus 27:21 (I am the light of the world – John 9:5)

Moses placed the table in the Tent of Meeting on the north side of the tabernacle, outside the veil. He arranged the bread on it … Exodus 40:22-23 (I am the bread of life – John 6:48)

“But when the tenants saw the son, they said to each other, ‘This is the heir. Come, let’s kill him and take his inheritance.’ So they took him and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. Matthew 21:38-39

Although the high priest brings the blood of animals into the Holy Place as a sacrifice for sin, the bodies are burned outside the camp. And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate, to sanctify the people by His own blood. Therefore let us go to Him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace He bore. Hebrews 13:11-13

They replied, “You were born in utter sin, and you are instructing us?” And they threw him out. When Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, He found the man … John 9:34-35 (Berean Study Bible)

Photo, Outside Looking In #1, by Stephen Kelly https://flic.kr/p/jjbawr

My True Identity

I am still looking for my true self   

the one that God made  

not the one molded by my circumstances   

not the one defined by my captors 

hardened by the hideousness of  

life-as-prison 

But where is she  

my true self? 

From the beginning rejected   

mocked and belittled into hiding  

hiding so deep  

so good at hiding  

behind camouflaged multi-locked doors   

even I can’t find her anymore 

wouldn’t know her if I did find her now  

wouldn’t recognize that stranger  

Only love can find her 

Only love can define her  

“To say that I am made in the image of God is to say that love is the reason for my existence, for God is love. Love is my true identity. Selflessness is my true self. Love is my true character. Love is my name.” — Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation 

… put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Colossians 3:10 

This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun! 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NLT) 

Wait. Do you think that maybe the reason why I can’t find that mangled, rejected/ejected self-person is because she no longer exists? Am I looking in the wrong place? 

Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on … Philippians 3:13-14 (NLT) 

Listen, daughter, and pay careful attention: Forget your people and your father’s house. Psalm 45:10 

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatians 2:20 

Love is my true identity. 

Photo copyright by Sheila Bair

Ashes

(This poem is in response to Emma’s Wednesday Writing Prompt of 11/03/23 )

Our God is a consuming fire 

my life consumed 

seemingly gone 

Ashes rising in the vortex of furious love 

amidst the incense of fire-yielded despair 

by Spirit-breath blown away  

Yet not despised 

Scattered on the soil of 

withered hope 

dying trust 

stunted love 

Nothing is lost 

that is surrendered to 

His fire 

Photo, Flame by Annie Roi https://flic.kr/p/9VB6y7  

Bring Back Your Heart

But you must return (repent, return to your starting point, be restored, bring back your heart, do it and do it again, turn back) to your God;  

maintain (protect, guard, keep watch, have charge of the garden, keep, preserve)  

love (goodness, kindness, mercies, pity, merciful kindness, lovingkindness, especially to the lowly and needy and miserable)  

and justice (right, rectitude, judgement, the verdict of God),  

and wait for (patiently, tarry, wait on, wait upon, expect, look eagerly for) your God  

always (continually, constantly, daily like the morning and evening sacrifice, with uninterrupted continuity like the Bread that is always there). Hosea 12:6 

Into the dark night

God brought us his heart  

Laid it in a manger 

A baby’s cry echoing our pain 

A tiny fist clutching life of breast 

Then opening on prickly manger hay 

Wrapped shroud-like against the biting cold 

The heart of God 

The heart of the universe 

The heart to be broken and pierced 

He brought his heart into the darkness 

He brings his heart again tonight 

He brings his heart always 

Uninterrupted continuity 

Like the morning and evening sacrifice 

Like a tiny open hand on manger hay 

Bring back your heart. 

Photo by Jack Bair

When We Both Are Blondes Again*

I’m going to get my hair dyed blonde  

This isn’t my color, she said, it was a mistake   

What color would you call this? she asks, 

pulling tinted ends and grey roots 

Strawberry blonde, I say  

This isn’t my color 

Dad likes it blonde  

Your roots are grey too  

we could get our hair colored together  

He was too young to die  

He had so much more living to do  

When I get my hair done   

You can get yours dyed blonde too  

My hair hasn’t been blonde since I was a kid, I smile  

I don’t want him to be dead, she says  

When you get to heaven, I say   

he will be there to meet you  

first in line  

I hope so, she sighs 

He comes every night, you know   

He sits on the couch just like always  

How can he be dead? 

He doesn’t say much, but  

You should come the next time he is here  

He always thought a lot of you  

When we both are blondes again  

I’ll take you out to dinner  

Ha! I exclaim, I love that – “when we both are blondes again” 

It sounds like the title of a story or a poem 

Yes! Write it down, she says, with a sparkle I thought long-lost 

When we both are blondes again 

We can go to New York City and sing  

“If we can make it there …“  I start out 

Yes, she laughs through tears, we can sing that song  

“We’ll make it anywhere …“  

We’ll bring Dad  

He would like that  

When we both are blondes again 

*Inspired by a conversation with my widowed mother, who has dementia. 

Lyrics quoted loosely from New York, New York, by Fred Ebb.

Photo, free download, by Charles Parker from Pexels: https://www.pexels.com/photo/glowing-lights-of-evening-city-with-futuristic-skyscrapers-5847375/  

Reminder

Praise the Lord, all you nations; extol him, all you peoples. For great is his love toward us, and the faithfulness of the Lord endures forever. Praise the Lord. Psalm 117 

This short little Psalm  

in the middle of everything 

it almost seems to me like a reminder an  

Oh, by the way have I mentioned God’s love and faithfulness? 

a little bench by the side of the path 

a spot to wait a second and take a breath 

a chapter break to remember his great love and  

his forever-faithfulness 

be soothed, grow still 

this is where the plot is headed 

Praise the Lord, remember? 

get up and let’s walk some more 

Oh, by the way, have I mentioned … 

Photo by Jack Bair