image1-8

you pulled away

the footsteps coiling around my neck.

a gentleness bled

into prints excoriated

 

the first rains crawling

along droughted river beds

shoe shaped cracks that choke

~

my heart swept up

into Your dark embrace

the Darkness beyond human myopia

 

seen only through the lens

of tears given Divine

You reached through dimensions

of suffering, the kind

 

that decodes DNA

and breathes, reanimates

 

Eye to eye

Heart to heart

humility scorned

now plays the part…

 

 

 

Photo credit: my husband

She climbed for the view…

Old photos 1273.jpg

over all of the pieces

missing in action

 

but so far from field

she was too high to collect

any meaningful

 

semblance of early

configurations of their

mis-relationship.

 

She had to go down

and follow the river bed,

to lie underneath,

 

to wait in the depths.

Heart broken by the sight and

defibrillated

 

by the breath of One

already there, bleeding out

poem’s syllables.

 

 

 

saudade

alex-at-maslins-2015-1
It’s been a word on my mind for years. Well, not the word, actually. Because I don’t speak Portuguese. (And in case you don’t either: saudade)

But we all know its colours and its scents and its sounds. We all know where to go to find its vividestness.  Perhaps, some kind of closet…

(And we all wish it were a word in English, because, I mean, Saudade!) 

One of the things I love about CS Lewis…he can take a heartwrenching word like this one and give it resolution. Not by his own invention of course, but in his descriptions of Christ realities – whether he’s taking it to another heavenly/”far-off country”/Christ longing level in the Narnia series, (hidden in a closet, no less) …or in brilliant descriptions like this one The inconsolable secret.

I so love the word. I’d love to honour it in a poem. But I can’t. I’ve tried. I blame it on everything but my writing skills. And the experts tell us that if you try and it’s too hard, then you should give up… um, is this decaf?

Besides, as much as I love the truth in negative spaces, and torturing myself with it… I much prefer what Lewis has done…you know, reminding us of what Christ has done, is doing, will do: the consolable longing…

(*Note to self: I seriously need to learn another language…
*Note to you: I may still attempt the poem…just as a warm-up, there is this: nepenthe of nepenthes)

Ephesians 5:31,32

Photo credit: my husband

nepenthe of nepenthes

Compelled to her feet
He reminded her of the Garden.
It kept her walking…

Breathed to her healing
the Leaves’ Scent from the Garden.
She exhaled
running

to Light
piercing through dimensions
outlining her shape

the distant memory of tears
welling up
and spilling
on the River drenched Fruit.

She was flying …

the-light-the-light

 Gen 2:7-9
Ezekiel 47:12
Psalm 34:18
Luke 10:33-35
John 19:34
Rev 22:1,2
Isaiah 40:31

Photo credit: Chase Miller