Easter

Mustard coloured heart shapes
Sing brightly against skys looming face
that puffs and rolls down as if from holy mountain
Sagging under thunderous skys belly
Hearts bend under the weight of clouds and
the weight of deaths cold descent

Heaven's darkness makes everything look so bright
As it bears down upon the earth turned black
Pressing dead hearts and bones into earth and rock
To rest among each other in damp and silent graves
Pregnant with diamonds
Becoming nothing, becoming faith

The way to Gods Heart

Ive been looking for the way to Gods heart for so many years
In so many nooks,
Rocks and holes and far flung landscapes
Listened to instructions, admonitions, sermon illustrations
Read thousands of sentences, searched thousands of eyes and faces
that promised so much, but were merely fellow pilgrims on the way.
We are all looking for the way to Gods heart.
Bhuddists, Muslims, Hindus.
Christians think they are so damn smart!
Meditators, procrastinators, activists, professors, garbage collectors, agitators.
All looking for the way to Gods heart
Artists, musicians, story tellers, movie makers
Even those of us that descend the stairs of the human cellar
Blind in our dank and furtive groping
From arts highest beauty to sins slop and mud
We search for the way to Gods heart
Why hide such perfect art?
Ah.. Gods heart! Gods heart!
Where for thou art?
We look at the Christ and paint him high on walls and ceilings
Volumes of articulated thought create spiritual vapour trails across history
While Gods heart calls, whispers in the birds and trees.
And when Jesus prayed to his Father, thanking him for "Ordinary people"
And spoke tenderly, inviting the ordinary and the young
To recover from the damage done in all our desperate searching for the way to Gods heart,
We heard and sighed, and staightened up, just a little.
We saw no hard edge in his eyes.
"Take a real rest.."He said,
"Get away with me and find Gods heart."

Kitchen Table

My mother wept over its
Faded laminex the day dad left
Twisting sculptures of knotted tissue
Around its surface like offerings
While sisters and priestly neighbors
Gathered with us at its humble edge

Your father is not coming back
The words reached me across familiar expanse
Setting the kitchen table was just never the same after that