Independence Day


Victory is won.

Liberation from our oppressor,

is achieved.


Glory, Glory, Glory!

It is the coming of our Lord,

with companies of angels,

to banish our foes.


Holy, Holy, Holy!

It is the rising of The Dawn,

bright and morning star,

Radiance of the Eastern Sky.


Showering us with Mercies.



For the Prince of Peace is come,

He is victorious,

the battle has been won.


Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

It is our Independence Day,

may we rest,

within our Lord.



Death in Christ

Preparing for the journey;

traveling light.


You won’t need those things,

where you’re going.

And you can’t take them with you.


Can you squeeze the world

through a pinhole?


And if you could,

what use would it be to you,

in your new home?


Pull up what you have hidden,

under the floorboards—

throw them all overboard.


You’re a traveling light now;

traveling light.


Goodbye to darkness,

all your shadows disappear,

dissolving into brightness,

total victory over fear.


Perfect light,

contains no darkness.

Perfect love,

contains no weight.


Death in Christ—

means traveling light.


You are a traveling light now.

So travel light.



The Space Explorers

We are in a weightlessness of space,

untethered and floating away into darkness.

The Father’s love is reaching out to us, to catch us,

and draw us back to safety.

Our choice to reach out and grab the line

offered us through Christ His Son.

There is no other tether to draw us back into our original bliss.

Certainly there are other ways to ameliorate our supine sleep,

and other comforts to enjoy,

as we fall away into abandon.


We look for other suns to warm us,

in our slow inevitable decline,

as we are passing our time in this cold, dark vacuum.

We see stars and reach out to them for warmth,

but they are indifferent to our inner yearnings,

and laugh secretly at our poverty.

We attempt to hitch ourselves to a passing comet,

the newest one, that might take us home again,

or give our freefall meaning,

but it glances past us and sets us in a spiraling motion,

still floating, arms flailing now and grasping at stardust.


We cannot breathe,

for the weightlessness of our world

is crushing us and we gasp for air,

searching desperately for a way out.

Meanwhile the Father’s love is reaching out to us,

to catch us, and draw us back to safety.

Would that we only reach out and grab it

and follow His line back to our eternal home.


We search for a new world, a new home in the darkness of space

and reject the best one that is offered to us.



Chutes and Ladders

We began in silence,

formed in the stillness of a womb,

and then the beating of a heart was our accompaniment,

in the march to life.


Ascending step by step into a promised land,

following the light,

hand in hand with the angels.

We were on a joyous climb.


But then, what treachery halted our progress,

and what trickery forestalled our steps?

We slid backwards and lost what we were made for,

and became what we were never intended to be.


The causes are myriad,

and they are legion.

These viral vicissitudes infecting our natural goodness,

into a wanton descent.


Pick one, for they are so numerous now.

Anger, accelerating man’s descent into madness,

it is the gateway to hell on earth,

and the blindness which erases all memory of our common life.


Anger is the slide, a joyless ride, into darkness.

Forgiveness is the only ladder,

leading out of the pit and back into the light.



The White Light of Christ

My life has been a rainbow of iniquity—

the red of anger misplaced,

the yellow of cowardice,

the green of envy,

and the blue of dejection.

But Christ has healed my colors,

transforming them,

into a spectrum of devotion.


Through baptism and the Oil of Gladness—

the fragments of my mind and heart,

have been gathered,

and life restored to my fading soul.

The baptismal font:

that crystalline prism which purifies,

the disparate and multi-colored,

paths of my sinful life,

yielding new life in me,

uniting me in the white light of Christ.


I have been distilled by water and the spirit—

dissolute no longer,

dissolved into the life of Christ.

I have descended into the crystalline waters;

my impurities have fallen away,

and I am raised up again as a pure vapor.

I am a new spirit,

a pure spirit,

a Holy Spirit.



The Holy Imposition

“I am satisfied with myself,”

I heard him say.

“Of course I could be better,

but in general I’m okay.”


“Eternal life? It can’t be known.

Since nobody can prove it.

I’ll live this life right here and now,

before it’s time to lose it.”


She goes to church religiously,

each Sunday in the morning.

She often finds it boring,

though sometimes she stays ’til three.


Yet after church she hurries home,

not a moment to be squandered.

All her worries to be pondered,

fears, anxieties free to roam.


Minds filled with doubts and vanity,

like little ones tucked in at night,

we comfort and we hold so tight,

divorced from peace and sanity.


Entertained into a stupor,

wandering lives lived aimlessly,

rushed from one place to another,

running headlong into the sea.


Yet for those with courage of acceptance,

there’s a life of transformation,

founded on Christ’s Incarnation,

built with faith, hope and repentance.


There’s a Holy Imposition,

for all with worldly ambition;

there’s a heavenly infusion,

to cure malaise and our confusion.


We’re the sick and we’re the dying,

without Him there is no healing,

there’s only hiding and or crying,

human tricks to numb the feeling.


Loving God alone with all our heart,

loving enemy and brother,

sacrificing all which keep us apart,

seeking God above all other.


Patience and humility,

joy and simplicity,

honesty and purity,

praise and thanksgiving!


Peace and sanity,

silence and sanctity,

stillness and divinity,

grant us Holy Living!


Give us Holy Life!



A Pernicious Gravity

What force is this that holds me to my sin?

What hidden power draws me down?

It is invisible, malevolent and constant;

it doesn’t sleep.

We who are given to trudge this earth,

are mired, and filled by this same stuff,

which caught our fathers in its grip,

and caused the first one poisoned by its sweetness,

to fall from his lofty heights—

I am as likely to free myself from its grasp,

as I might bend over, unclasp my feet from the ground,

rise up from the earth, and float into the clouds—

Few things might humble me so deeply,

as the recognition of how ineffective I am,

at resisting my own pride—

It is a pernicious gravity.

But for the fact that you do not see me as I am,

but only imagine me to be as I should be;

because I have been taught and learned to wear,

false clothing which hides this shame—

Were it not for this, my humiliation would be fulfilled,

you would see and then, perhaps, I would have hope,

cast as well into the earth and made to eat dust,

no longer able to pretend, but exposed,

and finally, with no means to hide, no choice but to repent—

then, possibly, freed from this pernicious gravity.

And were a greater one than I to come,

with power greater than this body of sin,

with force and grace exceeding this body’s gravity—

then my soul and spirit could take flight,

by force of love this pride would be thrown off,

and I would be revealed in likeness to my maker—

as I was made to be;

no longer bound by a pernicious gravity.