My husband's poetry

Category: spiritual

  • Intercalary days

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Today is a day for giving of gifts a time before the fast before the new year solstice. Chickens cackle in their cage, birds call back and forth in trees. I imagine them comparing the freedom of the woods and the safety of a restrained life. I have known both and long for safety, when…

  • King David’s ghost

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    King David, part poltergeist, part friend disrupts my Circadian Rhythm with Psalms thumping on repeat. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” David, the thought of lying down in green pastures gives my chiggers. But still your pounding rhythm drones on and on; “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” David,…

  • Drinking Fermented Milk in the Mystic Yurt

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    “Oh soul, you worry too much…” (Rumi) Post-modern Zen Move slowly into your Chi Wear crystal spiritual Drano around your neck Darvish whirl until dizzy Hobby Lobby prayer wheels (Dalai Lama approved) Dollar General dreamcatchers 2 for 5 YouTube videos guarantee Nirvana TM levitation at the Y on Wednesday Erect a pup tent tabernacle deep…

  • Wednesday morning

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , , ,

    City trucks out early gathering piles of leaves trees discarded After hiding from rain for two days tree dancers scurry and swirl in search of calories Mallards have left the pond their honeymoon over Flowering bush in the park refuses to give up on beauty A day or two in the sun and dry clatter…

  • Psalm of praise

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    In the beginning There was the word and it was poetry …..ET call home, Be wakeful and watch the sky *(Say) This morning is holy **(Say) This morning is holy Stars have fallen from the heavens, All the bell towers have gone silent, The thief in the night has come and gone and we are…

  • Postmodern psalm of benediction

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Bless the garden cat that consorts with painted plaster gnomes, stands at the gate and rubs against your leg for cuddles when you are alone Bless the backyard possum that eats ticks and rodents, plays dead when he is scared, rises from the dead and hides when you look away Bless the dog walkers who…

  • Footstool

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    A poem from a friend about being drunk on Sunday reminded me of the time when I was eighteen and read Easter Sunday Scriptures at sunrise services high on LSD. I don’t remember which scriptures I read, but I remember the light through the stain glass just above the head of Jesus standing on the…

  • Morning lament

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    The gate of the mystic garden is open It is not locked or hidden Often, I become lost in traffic And do not have time to mark my trail or stay once I arrive 10-17-22

  • Allah’u’abha

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    Mallards glide by, you wonder if it’s the same pair geese chased off last spring. Blue heron roosts in low branches; shy dog walker, who never speaks, calls out good morning. Heron rises up in flight. You wonder if it’s an omen; fish splash in peripheral vision. Letters of the Living send guidance – finish…