Categories
Poetry

An ark of acacia wood

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

If I were an Israelite, just out of Egypt,

wandering who knows where,

following a fiery, cloudy pillar

and a crazed old man,

what would this command signify?

I and those with me,

no home and no possessions

beyond what we carry with us,

make such a thing,

another thing to carry,

for the fiery, thunderous Voice

that makes us tremble?

Why?

How?

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

When I was a child I was told

one day I could be in a place

with streets made of gold,

gates of pearl,

miraculous trees

watered by a living river.

God lived there,

and one day, so might I.

It still captures my imagination.

You shall make an ark of acacia wood

covered with gold.

I never think about building heaven,

actually piecing it together

with my own hands.

It’s something provided,

provisioned by God himself.

It’s beyond me

my talent

my resources

my scope.

Only God builds heaven.

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

If I were an Israelite, just out of Egypt:

The wood, right here in the wilderness;

the gold, we carried as gifts out of Egypt;

the ark, something we never imagined,

but shown to us;

the skill, right here among us.

You shall make an ark of acacia wood,

covered with gold.

You shall make it.

See, everything is provided.

You shall make it;

and when you do,

I will dwell just above it,

hovering over your creation.

Grace and peace to you…

dw

Categories
prayer Prayers

Undoing Evil

Dear God in heaven

In your great mercy

Turn the evil we do

Against the evil we do

So we

And our enemies

May be undone

From evil

And thereby free

To undo it.

This kind does not come out without prayer and fasting.

Jesus

Grace and peace to you…

dw

Categories
Current Events Music

Words in Black and White

Any words I might offer

Would detract from these

Stuck in my soul

Oozing the cure for not caring enough

Wrapping the wounds

In tight bands of open-eyed hope and mercy

With no further ado, here are the words, words I gathered from James Cone in his book The Cross and the Lynching Tree; words I hope will wound and heal in your soul as they have in mine. Grace and peace to you…

Quotes from The Cross and the Lynching Tree by James Cone. Music by dw.
Categories
Humor

Easter

This is becoming part of my Easter tradition, reading this. I offer it again, in case this day is killing you with happiness 🙂.

Easter During COVID-19

Grace and peace to you…

Categories
Humor the real self

Dried apricots

My New Year’s non-resolution was to get up early enough to have time to write before I start work. You know, like serious writers are supposed to do…if you read all the books…(which I don’t).

I’m doing quite well with Part A – getting up early. For me, this is almost a miracle.

No, it is a miracle.

Part B has been another matter. I thought Part B had to do with this blog and my other blog (piano music) or maybe even a new blog I have in mind. It hasn’t turned out that way.

I’m an introvert whose life is way too busy. One generation before me, one just even with me, and two behind me – that’s a lot of people right there. No way am I missing out on all that fun. No way am I turning into an old codger.

(Codger – haven’t thought of that word in a long time.)

Where does an old potential-codger introvert, surrounded by generations of people, find a little nook in the space-time continuum to put one’s feet up, stare off into the distance, and realize how many muscles are knotted up and pinpoint exactly where they are?

I eat a lot of dried apricots – helps me keep my potassium from going low. (I get mine from Trader Joe’s – by far the best place I know of for dried fruit.) Some are soft and sweet and some are hard and don’t taste like much.

I become the second kind. When I don’t have time to myself. To just be and just do whatever my dried apricot soul feels like being and doing.

That’s what Part B has turned into.

And the surprise I wasn’t expecting:

my soul has been feeling like writing emails to people in those generations around me, connecting with them in new ways about what is going on in their lives;

praying for them much more than I ever had before

(and, alas, for people like Mitch McConnell and Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin, who I don’t even like to include in the same paragraph);

and just thinking about them and letting joy happen.

That’s it. My New Year’s non-resolution, unbeknownst to me and not part of my plan:

Make a little nook of space and time to let joy happen.

Grace and peace to you…

dw