Love Song to the Light

Like an earthquake it was spoken that
‘The life was light of men.’
As He moves and as He breathes,
Light cracks open darkness’ den.
Implacable, strong-fingered are
The rays that scoffing spread.
Only darkness thrives in darkness,
And even that’s mere moving death.
Even that’s brief-tenured death.

When my child-heart was a cave
Wracked with fears and bears and pangs.
Light and life came like a dream,
And swaddled me in heaven’s health.
A chemical event in first and second waves,
First alight and then alighting,
To salvation’s perimeter land,
The border of Darkness Banned.

When rays, unbound, escape,
Fall into foolish shade,
Darkened souls see me, see You,
And drink the taste of day.
They see and know and praise!
Your call leads on to death’s dark door.
We stand and lantern wide
The way for friends to cross the sill,
To Dayspring’s ravishing side where

Our Groom sings for His bride.
~
Meditation on Matthew 5: 14 – 16; John 1: 1 – 14

Honey From The Rock

Unaware, I came early to the glory porch.
Crepe myrtle, fucsia-headed, mopping
The fence, and the hummer
Darting, sipping at the sugar water spout.
Still,
Breathless with humidity and
Impending Blessing.
The Word spoke with a smile, and grace
Broke over my head:
“With honey from the rock I would satisfy you.”
Today! Yes, today, He had this waiting for me.
He laughed aloud at my gasp.
Only He could orchestrate the
Appointed day for
Summer reunions, old friends,
Long calendared,
To fall on the eve of
Honey promised
To the holy in
My morning reading.
~
I grew up on
Honey Rock Farm.
Had the man who built that brown frame home,
Who planted Sweet Olive near the back deck, and
Tucked it all up next to an oak-ringed field,
And named it Honey Rock,
Had he feasted on an impossible honey
That came, how on earth, from a rock?
Had Honey Rock come from his awe of a
Cleft in a Rock pouring clover’s wine,
Sweet and fine?
And when life in those walls had a rock’s hard edge,
When sorrow and worry
Fell like a stone on the heart,
Was there nectar to be sipped?
And could he have ever guessed how
That farm’s name would bring
Back-porch awe
Years and miles away,
Its syrup just now being sampled on the tongue?
Yes, and yes!
~
Psalm 81: 16

        
Allison Sieg, Paulette DuBose, Leslie Smith Milam – July 18, 2019

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

 

Physics and Prophets

 

What is a prophet, except one who
Simply
Believes
The Word of old, a seer –
Not of the future, but of the past –
Who sees the Word long-written
As truer than the matter
His hand can touch.
Walking on the living Word,
Without deviation, he finds
On that slim line
All of Physics in a child’s grasp,
And his own heart’s Physician
Bending near.
~
meditations on Psalm 119

His Promise Is Enough

Up to regions high and light
I go when I release my tight grip
On managing my earthy home.
My open hands can join the
Angel band, busy in praise!
Sacred lyrics, angel-sung,
Storehouse treasure, proclaim that
When He says He’ll supply
All my needs,
He knows exactly what those are,
To the finest accounting.
And that He has already provided them.
And that I did not even need a sign –
A hummingbird or a rainbow –
His promise is enough.

~
Tapestry owned by Carol Wildeman

The Gentle Now

This morning’s
Back porch prayer
Is a sigh –
Not a sad sigh,
Or a happy sigh,
But a sigh sigh,

A wordless prayer to
The One Who Hears,
Agreeing to wait.

Perhaps, He suggests,
There is more joy here,
More sigh solace,
In dove woes and
Tin roof rain,

In sugared flow of life beneath
What you can see,

Than in the triumph of
Your hopes.

Perhaps you already have
What you are waiting for.
~
His gentleness owns me whole.

 

 

Darkness Among The Dogwood

 

Mourning dove on a front porch,
Says with her eyes,
Her implacable, light-ringed eyes,

Yes, I made a mess
Building this nest.
But
The pangs were upon me, and

My nest-mess is the herald
Of Easter,
Of passion and pain.
In a corner of the cornice,
I hide my life,
Against the roaring of the foe,
Who stalks like a blight,
A darkness among dogwood,
A hatred complete.

This piercing is a deep breath
Inhaled for the victory shout.

I am the covering;
I will die for life.

~