The Promise Stands

Encircled, pristine,
Celestial with life,
Aroma so pure – edible –
Of the rushing power of
Let there be, and
It was good.

Each blade a throat,
Each limb a response,
That the promise stands,
Vibrating, pulsing, in a
Hidden, green Eden:

All your children shall be taught
By the Lord!
Great shall be the
Peace of your


Isaiah 54: 13

And Why Would I Want Anything Else?

Rare but intense are the
Truly, truly moments,
When I fix my eyes on
Him, scary but then not,
And realize that I have
Moved into the kingdom
With my tent,
But only an inch or two
Within the walls.
I am still trading with
The outside for books
And herbs
And under-the-wall water sources.
Jesus says, yes, moving
Further in requires you to
Carry a cross. But it is
Truly, truly
A cross of participation,
One that suits you to the
Water and words and herbs
Of this place where
Nothing dies
Nothing ends
Nothing fails
Nothing runs out,
And all your language must change
To speak of its essence,
Its life overriding the only-death
That you were born to bear.
Further and further in
Deeper and deeper in
The vastness is still only suggested
And eternity is pure water and
So, I unpeg my tent in
The shadow of the outskirts
And skip and run toward
The Mountain.