Saturday, April 28, 2012

waiting is the war

forgive me if i’m a bit shaky
it’s just that I’m waiting for the rest of myself
to catch up with my thoughts
and the waiting is the war that has me losing blood

all my words are just bricks in the berlin wall
so i’ll stand in the awkward silence
while you tear away at them to let freedom in


what strange god is this that
beckons us out into the desert to die
out of the comfort of our bondage

and keeps giving and giving
though we keep mistaking him for
our own complaining lips

we cannot rest, we cannot be still
oh, children, hear his voice
because we heard and are still deaf

the blood keeps rising on our hands
the smoke keeps rising from the tent
maybe some day we will be redeemed

and enter into the land of our enemies


sons of adam, daughters of eve
dust turned black and hard with drought
ashen with destruction’s fire

behold, the Maker plants a garden
His back plowed with deep furrows
our thorns upon His holy brow

we have sat fallow in the waiting
He the sower now plants His seed
opens up our earthen hands

to receive His rain, receive His sun
we shall be a harvest rising from the ground
at the end there shall be jubilee

the resurrection and life everlasting

oh mama mary, we’ve been waiting
for your boy to come so long
and i know you are, too
your bones long lying in the grave

john laid them down after
loving you like a son
and then wrote about his Master’s
coming back to raise them up

to earth’s womb we all must go
though we have already been born again
we will be reborn and reborn every day
until that great morning

oh, but mama mary, i will not ask you to pray for us
there’s too much on your mind
so i’ll pray along with you–
peace. peace. peace.

sun and stars besides

I hope you’re doing well, dear
Despite the world’s transitions
I know you’ve been through hell, dear
And pain has no conditions

I’m doing fine these days, love
In spite of my addictions
To hurt and heat and sorrow
And joy is my contrition

We could be beggars, we could be outcasts
We could be strangers forever and ever
We could inherit all of the cosmos
And the sun and stars besides

I know we’re not okay, dear, we never were to start with
But know that in the day’s clear light stars still break the darkness

And all our past and future collide here in the present
Sewn up here in the sutures of glory luminescent

We could be princes, we could be heroes
We could be fire forever and ever
We could bring beauty to all the planets
And the sun and stars besides

And if I could but ask you
To hold me like a promise
I’d take you as a shelter
From the mercy falling on us

We could be beggars, we could be heroes
We could be warriors forever and ever
We will rise over all of the cosmos
And the sun and stars besides

holy wednesday: mary

We meant to save this for my marriage,
This, my inheritance, the price paid
To a husband in exchange for his protection,
His provision, and (if I were lucky) his affections.

One small jar, a year’s pay–
And I crack it open on hair dusty
With Jerusalem soil, shoulders weighed down
By some great load I cannot understand,

And it runs down like anointing oils
On the unlikeliest of kings, and as I
Look into His eyes despite all proper inhibition,
I see, and I know–we shall be wed despite

His great sorrow, or because of it,
And I have no need of this sweet fragrance
Anymore–He shall pay my bride-price for me,
And carry me over the threshold into home.