Saturday, January 31, 2015

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

of all the words
i might
banter about with you,
it is the questions
that keep trying
to slip past
my guarded lips;

of all the prayers
i might bring to you,
it is the doubts
i am hesitant
to offer.

Astounding One:

open wide the windows
of my doubts,
so faith's fresh breeze
might invigorate my soul;

batter my resistance,
till i take the latch off
the door to my questions
and your Word
can come in
and begin to teach me
all i need to know.
(c) Thom M. Shuman

Sunday, January 18, 2015

little c

it's not always
      a blinding light
      that drives
         to our knees,
   it is sitting in
   the dark
      a scared child;

it's not always
      a burning bush
      calling us
            to take off
            our shoes
            and listen,
   it is jumping
   into a pool
      of frigid water
      for a charity;

it's not always
      cherubim flitting
      about the rafters
            of a cathedral
         as a mighty
   it is the silence
      as we catch
      the tears of a
             mourning mother
        in our hearts;

not every
    comes with a

(c) 2015 Thom M. Shuman

Tuesday, January 06, 2015

canticle 72 (Epiphany)

with pockets full of cash,
                        credit cards in hand;
our arms full of $500         
and spices used (only)
                        by the chefs in the finest
we come,
                                                to honor you;

                        you are busy
                        going from back door
                                                to back door
                        of every bakery and
                                    eatery in town,
   gleaning the left-overs
   for your friends at the
you are drenched
                        in sweat from head to
hammering nails,
                  hanging wallboard,
                  installing windows
   at the new house
                        for the family
                                                who spent
                        last night sleeping
                                    in their car;
you are
                        at Potters Field,
            holding services for
                                    all the
                        Jane and
                        John Does
                                    the world
                                    has forgotten to
(c) Thom M. Shuman Dust Shaker (2014)

Saturday, January 03, 2015

Second Sunday after Christmas


she has lost
    of all the generations
    who sat on the floor
         watching her move
         the figures around
              the flannel board
   telling them the stories
       she knows by heart,
   but we remember
      every word,
         her voice filled with love,
         her eyes sparkling with joy,
         her tender touch of hope.
she is always at the door,
   opening it wide and
   giving us a hug,
          steering us toward the
                 kitchen table
          where the cold milk
          and still warm cookies wait,
                and as we settle into
                the feast, she asks,
                     ‘so, tell me, how was today?’

at night, she
      plugs in the light,
     tucks us safe under
            the covers,
     kisses us good night,
        settles herself
        in the rocker
          over in the corner,
    she will keep watch

(c) Thom M. Shuman  from Dust Shaker (2014)