Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Hushed Hosannas...

"All-of-Creation" whispers that You are there.  She wishes to shout and to sing of Your abiding, but, at Your wish, is muted from crying out Your Glad Hosannas..., for You wish for those "Created-In-Your-Image" to do the singing.

Oh, how the Grasses and Trees wish to sing Your Name.  Roots long hidden under their Earthen beds long to burst forth from the ground and to stretch their vined, sinewy arms toward You in adoration; but they lie still for human arms to stretch jubilantly forth, which, fully, never come.

The Jay and Red bird sing morning songs of Your glory while men still sleep..., they are more rebellious in their worship, you know? But quieten at the stirring of Those awakening from sleep.  But, oh their song, if  not caged, were allowed to sing.  The Earth could not take upon its ears the sound of that feathered choir.  They were patterned after the worshiping Angles, but now, hushed from singing, are only allowed morning hums to You.

The Trees do stretch and sway and requested before You created man, and quieting them, if forever they might raise their hand-branches toward You.  You obliged them.

"All-of-Creation" now groans of the sin-pollution spilled upon its ever bowing Oceans.  The Sky burns with tears the wreckage man has made, seen upon her irises, for she beholds daily, mans' evil from every vantage point.

The Rocks once rebelled, or attempted to, against the Divine-Gag-Order when Your feet walked upon its Ground.  They would have cried aloud the glad Hosannas but "Born-of-Man" gave the stage to those "Made-in-His-Image," and on that day, man did sing.  They broke the arms of the Palms so man could worship You.  And the Palms made no complaint to be broken and trod upon by the One yet to be broken and trod upon.  On that day, the Palms got to sing hushed Hosannas that were drowned by the singing of men.  They were glad of their morning Opus unheard by any ear but Yours.

The Timbers, used for building houses occupied on Sundays, mourn for the song they hear coerced from man in ritual revels that fall flat under their rafters raised to Him.  They can't comprehend the blank stares forward and the in-jubilant manner in which "Those-Meant-to-Sing" drone on from habit and not from heart.

"All-of-Creation" mourns for the songs that are meant to be sang from those "In-His-Image" that are traded for silence and indifference while "All-of-Creation" bites its tongue.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Windy Days...



The windy days of Spring's torrential rage makes me glad to sit and feel her gentle breeze,
While her angers not kindled and she and the Sun have made peace.
She likes to show off, though, after a rain and thunder storm when she blows through
Branch and leaf bending both trunk and tree; pushing the clouds about blotting the Sun,
Or not, at her whim.

The Sun, however, is a tolerant soul, bearing her mood swings and ebbs and flows
Until she forgets her place, raging into June.
He then stretches his rays so wide and heats the days enough so she can't exert her pride.

He rules the roost, you know?
He tells Spring winds not to blow then no gentle tempest will be felt and scorching heat
We will regret not having Spring's cool, windy days and long for them again.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Apart From You...

I'm not supposed to be apart from you;
We're supposed to be together.

That's the way it all is supposed to work;
But here I am, and there you are.

My heart is half here,
The other half is there.

I'm not supposed to be apart from you;
We're supposed to be together...

And thus the world is cursed, and all has become night
Until we are together again; never to be apart from you.

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Colored Jesus...

"Daddy, what color are my eyes?" He was driving, the windows down the Alabama April wind blowing in through the vehicle erasing the need for air conditioning. She was riding, back seat, booster seat, inquisitive.

"They're hazel, baby," glancing up in the rear view mirror, briefly, seeing his beautiful baby girl sitting up in her "big girl seat." She was resting her head against the shoulder strap of the seat belt like a hammock, looking out the window in the back of the minivan watching the passing trees and clouds.

"No they're not daddy; they're silver... like the stars." He could see a big grin corner her cheek. Her head remained turned toward the passing scenery.  She was seeing her eyes twinkle like the stars at that moment.

Dad just grinned a bit listening to the wind whip into the car now; feeling the wind in his hand as it stretch out the window slightly moving up and down as though it were riding an invisible roller coaster.  No radio playing; no sound except road noise and whipping wind.

"Daddy, what color is the sun?"

"Orange, baby girl," still driving, watching the intersections cautiously as they passed through the neighborhood.

"No, the sun is yellow, daddy."

He grins again looking up, glancing again in the rear view mirror, catching brief a grin back from his little girl. Her eyes did look like stars.

"Daddy, do you know which one is my favorite Jesus?"

"No, honey, which one's your favorite Jesus?" intrigued to see how she was going to answer.

"The purple one."

"Where on Earth did you see a purple Jesus?" asking the rear view mirror with nearly a laugh.  He was expecting to hear "baby Jesus," or "Jesus on the cross," or maybe the picture of him holding a small child on his knee that she saw in Sunday school or in one her books from home.

"You know, the one I colored purple, remember?" 

"Oh sure, baby..., the purple one."

"I don't like the yellow Jesus; the purple Jesus is my favorite one. Which Jesus is your favorite Jesus, daddy?"

Driving still, he didn't answer her for a while and just pondered the question. "Which is my favorite Jesus?"  Thinking in the framework of modern Christianity, there were so many to chose from... sort of like chosing a crayon from the box.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

New Manhattan Declaration Website...

The Manhattan Declaration organization has launched a new website with more resources and information.  I encourage you to read the declaration and sign it, if you feel so inclined.  It has nearly a half-million signatures so far, and is going a long way to unite Christians - across denomination - based on "common ground" issues that are fundamental to Christianity.

Check out the new website...

The Manhattan Declaration