A Sunday Snapshot

 A hot loaf of bread fresh from the oven,

Cut into thick slices and slathered,

With melting butter waits on plates,

On the farmhouse table,

For Mom’s homemade preserves.

Her strawberry jam is to die for.

Eggs are frying; bacon sizzles.

Orange juice is poured.

Breakfast is almost ready.

An open window lets in a stiff spring breeze.

It blows the red checked kitchen curtains.

That wind picked up suddenly; the morning sky,

Darkens ; there’s rain in the air.

Good. It’ll settle the dust on the dirt road,

That is our driveway.

Dad is swearing; the tie knot brings it on.

 It’s Sunday; he hates church,

But goes regardless of how he feels.

The man always tries to set a good example.

You have to hand it to him.

A smug smile tugs playfully at my lips.

This is such a familiar scene.

I wish it would never change,

But nothing remains the same.

Time moves on like the train in the distance.

Its lonesome sounding whistle calls to me,

“Get aboard, girl.

It’s almost your time to leave the station.”

I don’t know where that train is going.

I don’t know where I’m going,

But I know where I come from,

And who I am.

It’ll be fine.

Nature's God

Nature’s balm soothes my troubled spirit.

With each tide’s ebb and flow, I am stilled.

No more than a pebble on the beach,

I know I am insignificant

In the grand scheme of this tired world.

That thought doesn't even concern me

For I’m content to be a small part of it.

As waves gently lap at the shoreline,

Every thimbleful and ounce of stress

Washes away into the ocean

Where it is forgotten in the depths.

Oh, the cleansing deep that sweeps away

Every burden and every worry.

It is so like the mercy of God,

For it is nearly as vast and boundless.

When I cast my cares into the sea,

It is as though I've given them to God,

For a tender voice calls, implores me,

‘Come unto me, my poor weary child.

Let me wrap my strong arms around you

For I long to bless you with sweet rest.’

I lean my head back against His breast,

Lost in the goodness of the Almighty.

I awake from repose to hear surf

And I’m not certain what is real and what’s not,

But I will give thanks to nature’s God.

Elephant King

Under a crescent moon in child-like bliss

an elephant danced first that way then this.

As the animal king, he wore a crown,

but like a commoner boogied on down.

Incandescent fireflies flew up his trunk.

They made him giggle; they made him jump.

Inside his head was a thrumming sound

as fireflies buzzed and flew around.

It made him feel queer; it drove him wild,

so he stampeded away for miles.

He ran into the town at full throttle

and smashed it like a glass bottle.

That ended the reign of Elephant King.

With no subjects, he’d lost everything.

If you should see an elephant dance,

run for your life while you have the chance.

 

A Prophet

Viewed as a wild-eyed lunatic by most,

he lived his life apart and in solitude.

Locusts and honey made up his diet,

while he pondered religious attitudes.

His message was short, but not at all sweet.

It could be summed up in one word: repent.

The common folk gathered to hear him out.

The powerful wouldn’t believe or relent.

His mission was simple: make his paths straight.

His voice cried, “Prepare the way of the Lord.

Be baptized for the kingdom is at hand.

Do it now while you’ve the chance to afford.”

They came in droves to be baptized by him.

One day Jesus came to be baptized too.

John was stunned to see the Lamb of God come.

He was unworthy to unloose those shoes.

Jesus said, “Righteousness must be fulfilled.”

John baptized him for onlookers to see.

A dove descended; a voice from heaven spoke,

“This is my Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

Today prophets cry in the wilderness.

Some among the humble hear and obey.

The proud will elect to turn a deaf ear,

but at the judgment they’ll face choices made.