The Lord's Prayer

Our beginning, our end, our friend,
outside time, eternally present,
our rest, our counsel and deliverer,
our sustainer.
We regard you with the highest esteem.
And your accumulated understandings
over millenniums of time,
given as edicts and judgments,
we incorporate and realize in
laws and governments;
we embrace order and structure
and mutual respect as
the ways of peace and freedom.
And we are a long way from living that
but we wish we were closer.
Supply what we need to survive,
and then may we flourish for such
are the promises of old.
And we know this life can be lived in splendor
and we wish to make the most of it.
Forgive our meanness to others
as we forgive the meanness's we've received,
and help us when we are wanting
to act outside of what's fair and honest;
keep our eyes open to avoid
the traps of envy and greed
and the thorns of blame.
For we really don't own a thing;
life is as empty or as full
as you allow it to be.
For only you have the power and the wisdom
To slake our thirsty souls.
It all belongs to you:
you are the host
and we are your guests
(not parasites).
And so we love you,
Eternally.

What I Never Learned

I never learned

why angels became swans,

choosing the lake

over the heavenly realms.

Or why it was a dove

that descended to Christ.

Or why David danced naked

before the ark of the Lord,

kicking the dust into

the storms of Jehovah.

I never quite got the

gnashing of teeth

of those left outside,

or the despair of the virgins

locked into the night,

or the kiss in the garden,

or Pilate’s wife’s dream.

But the stoned rolled away;

I get that.

The stone rolled away I get.

Treehouse

3 a.m. and I am watching Treehouse
with my grandson who cannot sleep
because he has the flu and a fever.
And like any good grumpa I worry
about this little man and if I should prepare
to take him to the hospital,
and my wife who posits confident assurances
that he will be fine and that all kids get sickly
and I know it's true but I stay downstairs
with him on the couch for about a third of
the time, and for the other portion
he settles on my lap,
and into my arms,
with his head on my chest,
and I shudder just a little
with emotions I really
do not want to feel for
I become so damn vulnerable and
life is so damn precarious,
because everything matters now.

Outlined

Enchanting snow
filtering air
outlining everything rigid
with soft white.
Cars slowing.
People going with
heads lowered,
reverencing beauty.

Breathing

One breath, in and out, expand, shrink,
energy, momentum, forceful release
into yourself, who you planned to be
unconsciously, but still by living you chose
the self you are and what's wrong with that?
What's wrong with you? Nothing of course unless
you're taking notes on what others might think.
Why then you've lost your way, you're on the brink
of being mired again in the ego's plots,
wired in nots. Relax and let go, tensions
release to the eternal flow, fast and slow.

Walking

The wind high tailed,
clouds, streamers
of garbage caught
in branches along
the ravine.
Snow lipped
rocks, granite
exposed, unearthed,
excavations, fifty
million tons, who
can fathom the
sky, blue cold
altitudes, thin
air lifting jets
towards Jupiter
where the air
is so thin,
it does not
exist. Gravity,
gratitude holding
my feet to
the earth while
my thoughts explore
what cannot
possibly be,
touching with mind
only concepts
and mystery.