Twin paths that travel a thousand miles side by side, arms locked forever. The inspiration for this haiku came to me as I was driving along an interstate overpass and saw the twin silver rods of a railroad winking at me through the trees below. I thought about how this pair of iron rails rides …
Where is he, the promised seed? Where is the ram, the great I AM? Where is the priest who will intercede? Where is he, the prophet true? Where is the one, David’s greater Son? Where is the babe who was born this day? Where is he, born the Jewish king? Where is the child, a …
“What’s in a name?” Shakespeare once asked through the voice of Romeo. The same question crossed my mind when I stopped to contemplate the author of “The New Colossus.” The poem is one that comes to mind quite often when I consider the situation of immigrants and refugees around the world and particularly here in …
First, a footprint, dry and crumbly,Soon effaced by winds which whisk theParched brown grass that shoots up, waving,By the fence above the tidemark. Then, an indent, wet and clay-like,Soon dissolved by waves that wash aLong dark strip of sand to mark aNo-man’s-land twixt sea and seashore. Last, a deep pit, soft and slipping,Soon melted by …
It’s the hour of the dragonfly. Have you seen it? I have. It’s the hour when dragonflies wing their way in sparkling iridescence over baked green grass and sidewalks shimmering with heat. They land for brief moments before skimming onward, disturbed by my walking too near, or by some inscrutable shift in the thermal currents …
Not that long ago, this time of year would have meant research papers, recitals, and final exams. In that context during college, I penned the following poem, which I'm sharing now as a brief poetic tribute to the season and to those who are currently finishing it out. "Finals" Death by a thousand paper cuts,Hands …
You are the Light which guides my way,The Bread that satisfies my need,The water which washes awayMy sin, the Shepherd who will leadMe safe, the Door and the Way ofEverlasting life, the Truth whoSets the captive free, who for loveDied, crucified on the cross, toBear the wrath that was due my sin,The Vine in which …
The first lines of this poem came to me as I was driving home in the evening and saw a lone white tree flowering in the woods near the highway's edge. "Spring's Reprise" The wild fruit trees are white with spring;The redbuds are empurplingThe brown and green and grayOf winter’s gentle passing away. Spring but …
