Category: My poems

butterfly river
flows across windshield
on Route Sixty-Six

We watch our blood streak under Your beautiful emblazoned sky;
Our tears mix with the mist of our brothers.
Our celebrations twist into horror, and
We taste the sorrow on our lips.
Liberate us through Your Son’s scourged body.
Quiet power stands wordless before Pilate;
His defense not to answer the governor’s questions.
Equate us beside His cross,
Shelter us underneath His resurrected glory.

Palm tree
burdened
with tender coconuts,
the milk,
sweet, mild.

Turns bitter when
the nut’s husk
falls, the meat
bittersweet, when
eaten
early.

Crave the jelly milk
of the Word,
maturing,
tasting
the goodness
of the Lord.

step on risen
nail scarred waltz rhythm feet
Daddy swirls afloat

undertow threatens
starfish clinging to rock
evanescent glow