Running

Bearing both mixed and shifting metaphors,
let us outrun those devils
pretending to be Marathon champions.

He who paces us has also cut the cords
that bound us to false followers, to tempters,
half-created archon remnants of a lost, unfinished universe
who lurk to frighten children
and hope to halt heart beats by hollow threats.

We run, we think, from destruction and danger,
but it is not so.

We run because that is our nature.
We run because we are both image and likeness
of One whose name is ‘He that runs.’

We run because we know He wants us.
He wants us to catch up to Him.
Yes, even to catch Him.

He paces us.
Always only a step or two ahead, He is not far.

He stays close, but He doesn’t relent, or slow, or stop.
Running is His nature,
and running is why He made us.

Walking in wisdom

Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. Do not quench the spirit. Do not despise prophetic utterances. Test everything; retain what is good. Refrain from every kind of evil.
1 Thessalonians 5: 16-20

This poem is dedicated to ‘Aunt Melanie.’

Walking in wisdom,
it is the intention of the heart
that seeks to confess Christ before men,
without crucifying Him anew.

Impossible without grace,
impossible without immersion in the Word of God,
not as a study for knowledge,
but as a baptism into His death.

Quietness, pause, selah, hesychia, stillness, peace,
the way into the Father’s throne room,
as we venture in,
following the word of Jesus,

taking nothing with us,
unclothed except for the Lamb without spot,
Whose precious righteousness covers our sinful nature,
hiding it even from our own eyes,

alone,
alone except for Him walking inside and outside,
above and below,
to right, to left of us,
before, and after,
enclosing us in His love,
our rock and our shield.

Glory to You, O God, glory to You!

Bless this sister’s sharing of her vision of Your throne,
and enlighten our eyes,
undeceive us,
Father,
for by Your Light we see Light,
and we become what we see.

Glory!
Glory to You, O God!
xx

Beautiful

                              Beautiful, quiet tears
                              have been shared
                              between lovers,
                              one alone in his room,
                              the other in a garden,
                              missing in time's flow
                              their embrace
                              before the world ever was.

                              The past certain,
                              the future the same,
                              they shall be forever
                              quietly happy together,
                              but presently
                              in time flows
                              the loneliness
                              of tears.

                              The pain inside
                              turns quickly to joy,
                              not mere pleasure
                              which is too weak to share

                              When I think of you
                              flying over seas
                              and mountains
                              as I sit in my chair.