(Rain)

Winter rain falls softly
in the grey and sullen morn
chilling the bones and
soaking the hopeful clothing
reaching cruelly into the soul
and promising disdain

Concrete and roaring machines
offer a haven from the chill
but no reprieve of the threat
promised by the winter rain

Pneumatic pistons and electric motors
sing their own song to the soul
offering a redundant, throbbing rhythm
that brings a smile to contented minds –
takes them into their coffee breaks

Metal and steel conveyors of
amazing complexity
put together by someone
much smarter than I
leaves me in awe of machines –
takes me into my coffee break
and I feel bested by a machine
(Snow)

Winter snow falls gently
in the grey and sunless afternoon
connects to flesh and eyebrows
disappears on an outstretched tongue
reaches quietly into my soul
and delivers her promise of purity

What if the angels were standing
on every lamp post, every bill board,
every exit sign on the side of the road
protecting us from the full impact of the fall?

What if the angels’ wings
were all touching one another
tip-to-tip in an unbroken
canopy of protection above our heads?

What if the angels were crying over us
their tears falling down like rain
and those tears permeated
the very essence of our core?

What if the heavens were opened
. . . invisible to our naked eye
and the sprit of God
descended on us all?

Are we even aware
of a Divine presence
in our every breath
at our every turn?

The angels are crying today
and preparing us unawares
for the presence of Messiah
coming down on us all
Listen
Listen
Listen
Listen
You can almost hear the tears

When the young pups of God
sought diligently a place to lay their heads
the Spirit led them a-way down South
into the land of the red stick

In their hearts burned a true zeal
to do something – anything – for our God
a quest to show the world that
He can save and He can restore

But in their desire to be something NOW
their small-mindedness overtook righteousness
and smote it dead into the ground
whilst they brandished a flaming sword

Not god’s righteous sword, but their own;
filled with ideas about unicameral conformity,
outward appearance and legalistic, dead-letter dogma
(which they touted as ‘freedom in Jesus Christ’)

And hate burned a’full as they talked of love
Hardness set in as they talked of pliable hearts
Rigidity became the rule as they spoke of
flexibility and being sensitive to the moving of the Spirit
And saddest of all was the carnage to God’s finest
- – - run through by those whom they loved

On a cloudless April day
the mercury is soaring to new highs
the air conditioner has given up its ghost
our love is building on itself
and the sun is mocking the shadows

Allowing the casual observer to believe
relief is in the shadows
coolness is under the trees
refreshment is next to the buildings

Lies, lies: nothing but lies
as the cool column of silver
climbs like a homesick bird

the freon in our antique unit
leaks heavenward toward the ozone

and the sun mocks the shadows

All across the complex mercury rises
like a million ants assaulting a tree

Air conditioners lick on and off –
reminding us that ours
is not among the faithful

Alex-the-it-cat has taken
to crashing in the porcelain bathtub –
his supine positioning somewhere between
death and utter exhaustion

It’s a cloudless April day
the mercury is soaring to new highs
the air conditioner has given up its ghost
our love is building on itself
and the sun is mocking the shadows

Oh number three
how I loathe thee

I arrive in the morning
forcing one step after another
plodding out onto the floor
to be your hand maiden
replacing the third-shift man
who’s at his ragged end

Oh cursed machine
how I despise thee
You spit out your products
without regard to men
never caring that fingers tire
that the mind wearies heavily

From the conveyor belt
sacks come one after another
and you, number three, urge
me to go faster and faster

When I leave you at the
end of the day
I breathe a sigh of relief
because it seems I
have won after all

Then I realize, number three
that you have fatigued me
and will soon do the same
to the second-shift man

As I lay down at night
I think how you, number three
will work tirelessly through the dark
and I fall into a deep sleep
hoping and praying
you’ll break some vital gears