Thursday, August 25, 2011

easier? (Matt. 16:21-18; Romans 12:9-21)

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  

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