Creation

So you couldn't swim with big fish, eh?
I know that I could not have,
either.
Thirty poems in as many days
seems strange
the more you contemplate it.

It takes a lot of work to birth
that many independent thoughts.
For that is what you do when you create:
bring to life new things
which as of yet have been
inanimate.

Creation is deliberate in its process.

Scripture says that "in
His image He created them."
So what is it from Father God
that we reflect?
Well,
what is it that God does but make things new
from all that once
was desolate?

And that, my weary friend,
is the only vision that for me informs
the poem.

ETDFK

I feel a sense of thoughtfulness

as I contemplate the end.

Not sadness, really,

not regret.

And surely not depression!

Reflection?

But neither

do I feel a sense of immanence.

The mystery surrounding ETD is that it's that:

estimated, undefined,

unsure.

I'll know the moment that I board the plane

which instance stands corrected

on the shore of time.

The one regret I have is that I haven't

been acquainted with the language

past

the indispensability

of market jargon.

Lion

To JDL. You will always be my twin.

When I was six years old,

I pretended just to be

a lion tamer.

And my twin brother, Jason,

was the lion.

We would go outside to play

in our backyard’s tall grass.

I would walk around,

swirling pathways in the blades.

And Jason would obediently follow,

crawling

on his hands and knees.

We didn’t like

when Grandpa’d mow the grass—

and cut away our secret hiding place.

We played Lion in our room

when that occurred

until

the grass grew long and green

and we could step into our luscious world

again.

Procésses

When you sit to start writing procésses,

you know that your father assesses

everything you will say--

be it March or in May--

But what will he think of the messes?

a silly little limerick written especially for my friend December's

St. Patrick's Day Limerick Contest