Surroundings

If depression were a flavor, it would taste like a glass of water.

Colorless and tasteless.
You could drink a bellyful and still be hungry.

If loneliness were a smell, it would smell like sunshine.
You could wake up on a beautiful summer day and inhale deeply,
  but never smell it's warmth.

If doubt were a sound it would sound the the echo of a footfall
 at the other end of a carpeted hallway.
      Did you hear that?

  But love, like water poured on a fist closed tight,
    seeps all the way to its center.

And love, like the afternoon sun surrounding the coatless beggar,
  warms his upturned cheek and clasps his frostbit fingers.

And love, like doubt, is a mystery and a wonder.
  How do you know it has tiptoed past?


-jm

Colder than the heat of the snow

I see you laying in our bed
  and I lay in your shadow

The back side of your face a wall

  that does not break and will not fall
It's frozen in sunlight and covered in frost
   You're colder than ice but without you I'm lost

Your back is warm against my skin
   as I lay in your shadow
My lips are numb my heart's on fire
   and I burn without your aloe
I'm in flames but I'm afraid to show
  because you're colder than the heat of the snow

Drifting in sleep like the drifts of the snow
   as I lay within your shadow
I feel you breath through the sheets in our bed
I hear your sighs like a song in my head
I long for the dawn but don't want you to go
  You're the taste of the sunrise and the heat off the snow.

In case you wonder if I'm lucky

Phillip and I are rapidly approaching our 13th year of marriage and boy do I feel lucky.  I got very nostalgic about it a couple of nights ago when I remembered how my dad cried when I went from his arms into Phillip's.  I suppose I'm only a few years away from having to release my own children to their spouses.  Every time Eliannah dresses up in her bridal costume my heart skips a beat.


I watched a man die a bit today
  when I reached out
  but not for you
I barely saw the hand that you withdrew
  but I knew.


Caught up in my dreams
  and love
I sent out my twice sent dove
and it took to it's branch and nest
  and found a home
  and found it's rest

My heart, not driven from my home
  but given
Found a heartbreak all it's own -
  The joy of love like breaking dawn
  that rises hopefully and moves on
  and drops to rest
  and set
  and pray
to gloriously rise again each day.

The Notebook

Remember not too long ago

when I named your notebooks, lunchbox, coat?

when the sharpie wrote unbleeding

on everything from floor to ceiling?

when I brushed that hair and made that bed

and carefully chose the books we read?

This notebook pushed aside un-needed

in a bookshelf left un-weeded

is a picture of how tall you've grown

how strong you are, your mind's your own.

Childhood sheds it's coat of laughter

it's labeled toys, it's happily-ever-after

But one thing I ask - this is a must!

don't let your God grow grey with dust.

Your boyhood Savior and childhood friend

knows your begining and has no end

He named all the stars and after that, it's true,

He took out his sharpie and labeled you.

So grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord 

your childhood treasure, your manhood reward.

I found a notebook of Zak's from last year and read through some of his journal entries.  I had to stop when I got to the page that said  "Quick write: What is the meaning of Life".  This was his response:

"I think the meaning of life is a really hard question but it says it right in the Bible (I forgot where) but it says that we Christians are to make disciples of other people and to obey God."

Gaunt

We grasp our cardboard heroes
as we toast with our goblets of sand
and Jesus and God are the Neros
That get in the way of our plan.

And our joys come from drinking our coffee
and breakfast on empty white plates
and our weakening frame craves for
nightmares, like the ones that we drempt we just ate.

The lives that we live have grown thinner
so we fill it with tumescent idols.
enslaved by their sequins
and glittering bridles
We race along panting and chanting their idylls.


If the real Jesus just stood up and joined us
would we notice our hunger at all?
If the Bread of Life offered a hand-out
- if he stretched his own scar punctured hand out,
would there ever be any more doubt?

As it turns out that God who defeated our plans
was always our only hope.
He offered a feast at his table
while we dined upon sawdust and soap
until one day I noticed my skeletal frame
and went chasing the man from the store

He sated my hunger
and made me wonder
what I was fighting him for?

Consumable vs. all Consuming

Sometimes I think I approach God as a consumer. 

I'm hungry - I eat.
I'm thirsty - I drink.
I need something magical - I pray.

But God isn't a consumable item.  Hebrew 12:29 tells us that He is a consuming fire. And if I am to live the way He wants me to, my petty, worldly, silly wishes will be replaced by a longing for His kingdom and glory.


What were you expecting of me?
     A cripple? A devil?
A fat man in a red hat?
    Don't talk to me like that.

And just what did you want to hear?
And what did you want to see
  because whatever you wanted, -
   it obviously wasn't me.

If you had asked for me
I would have given myself
but you asked for a god-shaped box
   to put on your Sunday shelf.

You asked for a good luck charm.
You asked for a santa clause
You asked expecting easy
   from a God without any claws.

You wanted love but no justice.
You wanted gifts and grace only.
"Come Lord Jesus" you whispered in bed
    but only because you were lonely.

You completely forgot about glory
You completely forgot about sin
your god - an impotent puppet
  why don't you go call upon him.

                             -jm

On Psalm 73

My Cup Overflows

My faith, like the ocean,
    tiptoes up and down the beach
Your love, like the sand,
remains always within reach.

My eye sees your empty hand
   its scars are full of grace.
My arm extends, its reach too short
  and misses your embrace.

Futilely I wander on begging for a penny
 when you've give wealth untold
 I think I haven't any.

The brightest sunlight on my face
  eclipsed by Your immeasurable grace
   - like a waterfall that cuts through a drought -
Lord, you have blessed me to the brim
and blessed me with without.

-jm

 Whom have I in heaven but you?
       And earth has nothing I desire besides you.
  My flesh and my heart may fail,
       but God is the strength of my heart
       and my portion forever.
 Psalm 73:25-26

$easons Greetings

Just a few more lights
and a box of clatter
(we always buy
the ones that won't shatter).

The perfect tree swapped with little regret
for the Jackson five
archive in our wallet

layers of happy wrap
in a ribbon vice
holds on to those sweaters
that will be gifted twice

The 30 day sparkle
and 15 minute goodwill
take a one way trip -
Destination?  Landfill.

-jm

No, I'm not a grinch.  I love Christmas.  I love presents. I love Christmas decorations, songs, etc.  This poem was born of a conversation with someone who was so fed up with the commercialization of Christmas that their family boycotted it for several years.

Haiku

I remember learning about Haiku in grade school and disliking it.  Now  I get to teach it to Eliot.  He was supposed to write his own but I "helped"

Wind
scrubbing my face red
moving leaves with one sneeze
cold harsh autumn wind


The only Haiku I have ever liked is the following:

Haikus are easy
but sometimes they don't make any sense
refridgerator

- anonymous

5

soft tiny
your hand
face giggling in smile

below belly dance
leg can can kick style

grunt chuckle squeak
splarch
mouth full of cornstarch

lint velcro neck
V eyebrow arch

five months too fast
fast months to five
tummy time tango
jumping jack jive


(with apologies to e.e. cummings)

"SiCee"

Dirt burnished face,
   tarnished with love.
Tucked in the palm
   of a bachelor glove

Unraveled expression -
   yarn coif in tatters
My baby loves this baby
   and that's all that matters.

Kisses

Mommy's kiss is short and sweet
slipped in between her chores
She brings me right along with her
both in and out of doors.
So when she sees my eyes half closed
she carries me to bed.
And just before I go to sleep
- a kiss right on my head!

But daddy's kisses
come when he gets home
late at night when I should be asleep.
I get 5 -or -6 all in a rush
- - though it's kind of like being kissed by a brush
I think I like best his technique.

Horn sectional today!

kleenex choir

sitting on the couch

cough, sniff, wheeze hack

grouch, grouch, grouch

Cough syrup cocktail

Please pass the juice

nose like dam

with an opened sluice

sneezing and itching and fevers too

spring break symphony

What's a mom to do?

T.V., DVD

chicken noodle soup

spring break activity

going down the poop.

Piety and Poetry

A Vacant Valhalla

Paradise lays dormant
inside the soul of man
he feels the need to know it
but isn't sure he can

The questions in his hardened heart
build into a squall
But he assumes his faith in naught
better than faith in All

Eden locked
it's garden in chain
inquiry muted
agnostic remains.

For a long time now I've been inching my way through "Reasons for God" by Tim Keller. (If you've ever read Mere Christianity I think Reasons for God is the next step.)  I bought it as a Christmas present for Phillip but have already filled the first few chapters with so much highlighting and notes that he'll almost be getting two books in one! (not that my notes will enhance the book any ...) The first chapter deals with the faith assumptions of those that say  "religion is irrelevant" or "religion causes more harm than good" and  points out that every one's worldview is based on some key suppositions many people won't even question.  "Interesting!" I thought, "now how to capture this idea in a poem?" (see above for the result)

And speaking of poems .. for me, a poem usually begins with a good title or a short phrase that I can't get out of my head.  Sometimes the right two words together are so poetic I can't leave them alone so, in honor of Poetry month I would love to read your poems, poem ideas or "fragrant phrases" that are beautiful to you.  I promise I won't steal your ideas but I love fresh inspiration!

Mama

Mama rocks the craddle
just like that
mama rocks the craddle
where you lay on your back .
Just like that, just like that
mama rocks that craddle with a smile while you nap.

Mama wears a halo
you wear a hat
she put it on your head
just like that.
Just like that, just like that
with the bow in the middle and the tag in the back.

Mama always loves you
mama always will
mama blows you kisses from the window sill
Just like that, just like that
mama blows you kisses and you always blow them back
to your mama to your mama who taught you love's soundtrack.




weak end rhyme I know but after batting this one around in my head for the last couple of days I just had to finish it.

Too harsh?

Picking God's pocket
you saw us on the news
but we're already dead
those medical supplies
are right next to your bed

your cash didn't reach us
your tears dried too fast
your wallet was uninjured
by our momentary contrast

so go sell your soul to Cable
store those treasures in your closet
start your Heaven in Hawaii
with your 10% deposit

two thousand unreached voices
can you hear the faintest whisper
a million Christian choices
won't you choose to help us Sister?


With full stomachs, overloaded closets and bursting storage units it's amazing that we can plunk ourselves down in our overstuffed chairs and wail at the economic crisis around us (I'm speaking to myself here). In our family we've gotten low on food and peered into an almost empty refrigerator more than once but I can't say we know yet what it means to want. I don't know about you but as long as my bathroom scale indicates overindulgence (pregnancy aside) I can't complain. Missions week at church is coming up. Can't wait to hear what God is doing around the world and what we need to do to participate in the work of the great commission.

(Oh, and I just found out that our church has a missions blog and a college missions blog - who knew?)

'Tis the sneezin'

a heap of white tissues

piled like snow

a nose like a reindeer

both red and aglow

christmas shopping for cough drops

while trying to rest

a song in my heart

a cold in my chest.

Dec. twenty-five

12/25

Musical
Magical
Altruistic

Sanguine
Sacred
Atheistic

what to you
But Who to me
Which will your
Merry Christmas be?
- j.m.

What the heck is Christmas anymore if atheists think it is too "religious"? Check out the link.  I'd love your thoughts.  

Happy 8!

a dollar short and a day late

we missed out on 7

we missed out on 8

anniversary breakfast?

toast and honey

nothing but the best for my

Punxsutawney

we've taken turns

being thin and thick

we've had our share

being well and sick

it's been an adventure

it's been awhile

maybe next year we'll celebrate in style!

Sorry sweetie!  I guess life just gets in the way sometimes.  I do love you still!  Let's shoot for something special in 2010 :)

Cheese

1
Origami happy face folded in a grin
turn two edges, mountain fold
a frown sits on my chin
2
Smooth that paper
leave it loose
this is how my face folds,
when it's not in use.

Phillip says I have a mean and angry face when I'm not deliberately smiling. I've seen myself in a few too many surreptitiously taken photos to disagree. I'm not a jerk! My heart is still smiling, I just have a lot on my mind usually and whatever I do has my full attention ... really ....


(I was trying to capture my relaxed face when, sensing that a photo was about to be taken, Zak snuck up behind me and popped his head into the picture! That Ham ... I can't imagine where he gets it.)