Finch

Last back porch morning
Before the mountains call me out,
And the finches are back on
The zinnias. And oh what marvel!
I would have thought that
Zinnias themselves
Are all the color in this world,
And then the finch – a lemon
Popsicle
In the berry sherbets, a busy
Little page in his lord’s livery,
Palette completer,
Dominion bearer.

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Processing God’s No

Breathless. And then
His No leads me in
Through the back door
Of Yes. Not the Yes that
I sought, but a
Different address.
A Yes so much broader
Than my earth-vain request,
A Yes of the wideness
Of East spanning West.
Ruddy and grained and
Ravishing to taste,
Perfumed and anointed and
Running with Grace,
What bliss in this place!
I find that the No, that makes
Heart tears fall, is not the
Back door at all.
It’s the thrown-wide front gate
And the outstretched hand;
Though it stings, it’s a Yes, and
The Yes is a Man.
~
II Corinthians 1: 20