it's a whole lot
easier
to lose my
cross,
than to lose my
life
to leave it propped
up against the corner
of the closet, dust
bunnies sleeping
at its feet;
to ignore it
standing on the coffee
table, looking out the front
window, its cow eyes
brimming with tears,
as i pull away from
the curb;
to simply reply, 'i can't
remember the last time
i saw it,' when
i'm asked, 'what ever
happened to your cross?'
but
each morning, it puts
Good
into my hands,
closing my fingers tight
over it, whispering,
'don't let go; don't ever
let go.'
it tapes a picture of
evil
to my bathroom mirror,
so i will know it
when i see it,
and stand up to
it;
it spends each lonely day
at the loom,
weaving the yarns
labeled hope, love,
patience, perseverance
into that community
which helps me to
bear what is mine.
(c) 2011 Thom M. Shuman
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
crumbs (Matthew 15:21-28)
she had heard
of those promises made
under starry, sable skies:
blessings flowing
through the lines
of desert wanderers,
which would bring life
to every one
of God's children;
she had heard
of this wandering band
of foolish followers
led by the teacher
who reminded his kin
of those long-ago
spoken covenants;
but she was tired of
hearing only words . . .
even if it was only
crumbs,
she longed to be fed
from grace's feast;
even if it was only
a glance,
she challenged Jesus
to see her as
his sister;
even if it was only
a whisper,
she dared him
to call her daughter
'my niece'.
watching his assumptions
tumble to the floor,
after she yanked the
table's cloth out
from under them,
Easter's Child
silently reached down,
lifted her to her feet,
and gave her his heart.
(c) 2011 Thom M. Shuman
of those promises made
under starry, sable skies:
blessings flowing
through the lines
of desert wanderers,
which would bring life
to every one
of God's children;
she had heard
of this wandering band
of foolish followers
led by the teacher
who reminded his kin
of those long-ago
spoken covenants;
but she was tired of
hearing only words . . .
even if it was only
crumbs,
she longed to be fed
from grace's feast;
even if it was only
a glance,
she challenged Jesus
to see her as
his sister;
even if it was only
a whisper,
she dared him
to call her daughter
'my niece'.
watching his assumptions
tumble to the floor,
after she yanked the
table's cloth out
from under them,
Easter's Child
silently reached down,
lifted her to her feet,
and gave her his heart.
(c) 2011 Thom M. Shuman
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