"Mounting the stair"

(Composed June 2010).

Starting on an upward trek
In the early afternoon
Joyful for the journey ahead
Excited to reach the heights
As I open the wooden door

Mounting the stair
Dark, narrow passageway
Steep and slim the steps
Clutching the ropes
I make my way up

Tiny slits of light
Beam between the stone
Offering a little guidance
Still leaving corners hidden
Cloaked in shadows

Stopping to regain my breath
I quickly glance below
It is a long way down
Yet looking up again
Quite a far bit to go

One hesitant step
Stair after stair
Stone upon stone
Spiraling higher
Suspended in shadow

Cold stone surrounds
Entombs me
Still I continue upward
Rising from the pit
Seeking the sky

Suddenly emerging
Bells ringing overhead
Sun brilliantly shining
Clouds billowing
Glorious light

Gazing at the splendor
Transcendent vision
Released from earth
At journey's end
Beatific delight

"What to say?"

(Written the first week
of November 2009).

What to say of a pain so deep?
What to say of a loss so great?

My friend lost her father today.
I guess 'lost' is the wrong word,
For she knows where he went.
Her beloved dad went on ahead.
He left to lead the way home,
Yet he is gone and she is here.

Shock. Tears. Unbelief.
Questions. Comfort.
Sadness. Peace. Pain.

What must she feel?
What could I ever say?

So a simple card
And a single orchid
On her doorstep I left,
The best gifts I could give,
And soon a hug and a shoulder,
The most poetic images I'd display.

"Monday morning"

(Eagerly typed on
September 21, 2009).

Monday morning--
So many possibilities,
Opportunities yet to be had.
Although you plan ahead,
There's always a surprise.
You never know exactly
How the week will go.

Sleepy from the night before--
Homework, a feature film,
A long talk with a friend--
I never seem to make it to bed
As early as I planned.
Still, when eyelids split,
Anticipation swells for the week.

Some drag themselves out of bed,
Coffee is a must in the darkness.
I have those days myself too,
But more often than not I find
Monday mornings are refreshing,
Filled with the unexpected joys,
The promise of a new beginning.

Like the glorious dawn,
The first warm glow on the rim,
A hint of light in the black,
Greeting the crisp morning air.
Not completely illuminated,
Yet overflowing with delight,
Eyes fixed on the horizon.

No one knows the time,
TBA's on the invitation,
When we'll hear the trump,
Angel's shout resound,
Transfigured by His brilliance,
When the Lord calls us home,
And it could be today!

"A Moving Day Reflection"

(In the last days of
the month of July 2009).

Dust hangs in the air.
Cardboard boxes stacked high
Fill the empty room.

Dingy walls exposed.
Every object touched, examined,
Appraised by light.

Lay aside every encumbrance
The sin which so easily entangles us
Let us run with endurance

Hidden corners now revealed,
Embellished rugs pulled out,
Closets emptied.

The stains and cracks,
Peeling paint, chipped tile,
Illuminated lie bare.

Spider webs and bobby pins,
Popcorn kernels, bottle caps,
Pennies on the floor.

The lost are found,
Forgotten remembered,
Fallen uplifted.

Pilgrims on the earth
Seeking a homeland
A heavenly one

All temporal is shed,
Unburdened and released,
Lightened so to soar.