Reflection: Poem regarding Jesus Christ

 On this Sunday morning I thought I would share this poem. After watching a show debating Jesus Christ and his ministry on television one day, I wrote this poem. Always was proud of this poem because I shared it was my aunt, who was also a poet, and she said, she wished she had written one of the lines, which was and is a major compliment.Was published 2013.

Jesus Christ Defined

Jesus Christ,

begot and not made,

co-conspirator when plans for the universe developed and laid,

both fully God,

and fully man,

understand that, if you can,

born to die, so we could live,

His reason to be,

salvation for all, who do believe,

Christ, with the courage to give us hope,

and love and joy for eternity,

He is the door for you and me,

begot and not made,

existing before the universe created and laid.

Reflection: A Smile

 My dad was always speeding when driving, and he usually got caught, but that didn't stop him. He actually hired me to drive him around while he did his business, because he had lost so many points on his driver's license, he was about to lose his license. He was a real estate agent who sold ranch land. This poem was inspired by a waitress at stop in Burwell, Nebraska. 

A Smile

she smiled a smile, I knew reserved for me,

an outsider,

pretty,

hers, the only smile we saw,

our business to list and sell the biggest ranch around,

priced out of reach of the local population,

I wished we were spending the night,

but sadly,

we ate,

and drove away,

she was gone,

by the time we made our next trip,

but I remember her smile.

Reflection: Bookkeeper

 This poem was inspired by a memory of a barn wall with figures and tag numbers of cows written on it. I remembered seeing the same thing on a barn wall on the family ranch.

The Bookkeeper

the books of the operation,

kept on the wall of the barn,

by the doctoring stall,

with a stub nose pencil,

year after year,

in a short hand,

 all his own,

calves born, and sold,

no mention of the profit made, or lost,

not important enough for the barn wall,

machinery expenses kept on a work bench,

in the shed,

where the equipment stored,

along with the number of posts planted,

and barbed wire strung.

no figures on the salary paid,

for time spent working on the ranch,

a lifetime spent here,

priceless,

beyond pencil and pen.

o

Reflection: Playing Catch

 This poem was written for this particular magazine called 4 by 20. If I remember right, you had to have four lines, with a total of 20 words. I don't remember if you had to use a certain number of beats per line. This poem was inspired playing catch with my son  as he was reaching middle school.

Playing Catch

dust off the old glove,

catch in the backyard,

he is growing up,

my hand throbs after every throw.

Reflection: Hills of Sand

 This poem was inspired by a trip back into the sand hills of Nebraska, with my boys to show them where I grew up. The serenity and goodness I felt in my soul back in the hills was so familiar, and calming, it took me by surprise.

Hills of Sand

hills of sand extend in every direction,

sacred the silence, in this place of confession,

in this vast emptiness, God is the reality,

there is no room for doubt,

a fleeting glimpse of what life is truly about,

finding myself lost in the eyes of my child,

amazed by the depth, and space,

I quietly smile,

knowing hills of sand extend for endless miles,

secure in the knowledge,

hills of sand, still endless,

timeless.

mile after mile.

Reflection: Illness Assumed

 While picking out poems to post here, I came across this poem.  The poem was written and published in November of 2012. Don't know if I was a prophet, or just paranoid.

Illness Assumed

master manipulators,

impossible not to believe,

reality not a state of being,

but a resource to exploit,

fears played,

a deck of cards,

or chess pieces on a board,

until forced into corners,

doing as they want,

checkmate,

defeated once again.

Reflection: Winter Walk

 This poem was inspired by a walk with my dogs one winter morning, It was written in 2014 and published at Camel Saloon. (It was a sad attempt to remind myself to stay in the moment.)

Winter Walk

shuffling through trees, standing naked,

huddled against the cold,

my dogs sniff the piles of fallen leaves.

mixed with snow,

awaiting the warm breath of the winter sun,

dreaming of the hot days of summer,

yet present in the moment,

sniffing piles of leaves,

wet and cold.