Sacrifice in a Low Place
Cf. 1 Kings 3
I would go to a high place and sacrifice to God
But there is no high place; this is an alluvial plain
Dark with conifers except along the sloughs
Dark in their own ways with cypress and oak
And I am old, too old to be a prophet
And I have often asked for all the wrong things
So I will take those things into the dark
And leave them at the foot of a pagan oak
I will learn the statutes from the whisperings
I will go into the quiet, and listen for God
Every Morning Begins with Sunlit Hope
Cf. Shakespeare, Sonnet 33
Every morning begins with sunlit hope
Perhaps an echo of the Passover seder
“Why is this morning unlike all other mornings?”
Because this day our hope will be fulfilled
But it isn’t
The arrows of the pharaoh darken the sun
His beatings and executions extinguish light
We work and sweat and bleed, and are still found wanting
We take to our beds in exhaustion, and we dream
Next year in Jerusalem
Every morning begins with sunlit hope –
Maybe tomorrow will be the dawn of freedom
The Golden Gate of Jerusalem
The Gate of Repentance
The Golden Gate captures the evening moon
Which shines upon the road a convict walked
At the rubbled base a snake pursues a rat
a very troubled rat
While Roman squaddies stand the middle watch
The Gate of Mercy
The Golden Gate captures the morning sun
Whence the Messiah comes, or comes again
He is the Gate Himself, the Golden Gate
He comes from the Mount of Olives in golden light
The Golden Gate has been blocked for centuries –
This will not always be so
We Were Dressers of Sycamores
From the readings for the 15th week in Ordinary Time, Year B (Amos 7: 12-15 and Mark 6: 7-13)
All of us are sent, one place or another
On curious missions little understood
No detailed instructions, no notes, no maps
Take this road and go on until it ends
And greet the folks you meet along the way
Some of them will need your help, your love
Some of them will give you help, their love
And one of them might murder you
All of us are sent, one place or another
We can’t get out of it; we’re needed, brother
Celebrity Priests Fly First Class to Conferences
Fashionable clerics fly first class to conferences
Sending us photographs of first-row meals
Then more from each divine little bistro
Or trattoria that only the locals know
They send us views from their hotel windows
And cutesy selfies taken along ancient streets
And of deep-credit card bargains they’ve found
And of handshakes with famous people they’ve met
Fashionable blogger-fathers fly first class to conferences
To discuss why the faithful are losing faith
A Repudiation of the Concept of Entropy
“For poetry too is a little incarnation.” -C. S. Lewis, Reflections on the Psalms
All that ever was, that is, that ever will be –
All is from God, and will return to God
As elegant iambic pentameter
(Okay, maybe tetrameter)
We Know Where the Holy Grail Is
“They all say they’ve got the Holy Grail. So who’s right?” –CNN
We know where the Holy Grail is
Each Sunday we see it on the Altar
As a cup, indifferent in its origins
In the catalogue of a church supply
A rabbi, a carpenter, and God
Walk into a rented room
And a Passover Kiddush cup is blessed
With the Viaticum, for all of us
A Passover seder is neither first nor last
It is forever – and here is the Cup
LogoSophia Magazine 