GRACIAS

All friendship is voluntary.

Fellowship – extraordinary.

The pure and perfect Prince of Peace

Was by many men rejected.

Why my surprise at those who shun

Me – incomplete, not perféct yet?

Thank we all for Him who heals us

Notwithstanding our plain weakness.

Thank we now for those who see us

As good – because of His meekness.

(Provo, Utah, January 2007. CLH)

SHE WORE WHITE

Like a maiden, like a muse,
Like a nun, like a nurse,
Like a bride, a blessing dress,
Aurora Leigh, Samuel Clemens,
Like the saints in Revelation,
Candidate for Nomination,
Like a prism, like a covenant,
Like baptism, like endowment,
Like an angel, like a temple,
Like a smile, like a crystal,
Like snow, a debutante’s delight.
She wore light like the name of Christ.

(23 May 2007, Provo, Utah)

YOULOGY

Light – is a Liquid –
Spilling – through Space –
From Point – to Surface –
From Face – to Place.

(7 May 2008, Provo, Utah)

STRING THEORY

On the other side of this page,
Your face is smiling at me,
Our breath – a veil of life,
Our flesh – a wave of light.

Just on the other side of sleep,
Your name was given to me,
The place – a House of Power,
The time – Dimension’s Hour.

Now on the other side of prayer,
Your voice is comforting me,
The words – a gift of calm,
The peace – a blessing balm.

(November 2007, Provo, Utah)

ROBIN’S HOSPICE

Spring came Early – Winter stayed Late.

The Pumpkin Cat Savaged its Fate.

Now I See with the Robin’s Eye –

Now I Sing with the Robin’s Cry.

His Burial was in the Air.

His Body warm – I could not Bear –

Below the Soil to crush his Rest.

His Feathers breathe in last year’s Nest.

(Orem, Utah, 2 April 2008. CLH)

PAGE 89

On a mid-April afternoon,

Pride slipped and fell four thousand feet

At Horse Shoe Bend, Arizona,

On the Colorado River.

Before the fall, Pride saw an ant

Delicately hedging a bet

On endless coral sandstone steppes.

Lizards confirmed the accident,

But Insurance is contesting.

Pride is survived by Joy, a twin.

Give rainbows to their favorite fund:

Perpetual Exaltation.

(April 17, 2008. CLH)

CHINA COVE

It does not matter what I want.

Thy will is passage clear,

And though my eye still tries to vaunt,

The path is grounded here.

Bird Island southward runs to stairs,

Descending to a beach

Of layered caving aqua waves,

Arriving out of reach.

The day returns for me to kneel

On Gibson’s next-door shore.

It doesn’t matter what I need,

The call to thank is more.

I left an abalone shard

As offer for the sea.

The ocean answered with a breeze,

A harbor for my plea.

Is every scene a hidden verse?

Is every view a poem?

Is every sight a miracle?

Is every sky a home?

Does every moment have a song?

Does every word have time?

Does nature listen every day

To my attempt at rhyme?

The path to China Cove is closed,

But not the way to see

The beauty of the hand of God

He sends from life to me.

(Point Lobos, California
May 23, 2008, Friday. CLH)