Fire withdrawn from a bush in the desert
smolders in hearts
awaiting wood and wind
Tag Archives: Bible
Catholic Dad
I’ve got a quiverful of children.
The Bible calls them arrows
and me lucky
and I am.
Though I’ve a pretty good view
of the target, and pull the bow
the same way every time,
bends in the air
send the one a-high
and the one a-low
and dams back in
their beaver,
aquiver.
I duck myself when they circle around.
I practice.
I do practice.
But my son and my daughter
fly where they will.
Over and under but especially
under the hill,
they fly where they will.
Adam at eighty
Rags of leather
through which
the blood flows
docking ghosts to tread
a million distant dreams
Moses
It was not a rock
but a heart
that he tapped:
a stone of blood.
Birds dive for man’s bread
O Elijah, where have you gone?
I give to God what my camera gives to me
A muddy image in return
for perfect clarity.
Peter on his feast day, looking back
The touch that loosed the shackle
was like that of a girl.
You don’t think she’s interested
until her fingertips
graze your arm.
Then you feel it
through your whole body.
I followed, of course,
right out that door.
But then she was gone.
Paul’s plaint
I have a bitter spot,
a little burn lodged
in my side
still smoking
Psalms, the next generation
When we ask ourselves
what this hour is for,
when grief it rains
in the houses next door,
when Pickles the maid
mops up the floor,
and we drop to the basement below:
Then I pick me up
and dust me up
and turn to you, O Tums:
(key of G)
O Tums, Tums,
Tum-tee-tum-tum
Tum-tee-tum-tum-tee-tum-tum!
