Day 20 – Poetry for Lent


Half way through Lent! I didn’t really realize how difficult it would be to do a poem a day for 40 days. Hence the resorting to Haiku now and then. : ) I saw the most amazing sunsets yesterday and today. And the stars! Incredible.

Teach me Your story
so I might know mine
so I can know others
so I’ll worship 
God of all
Ruler, Creator
beginning and end
of all that is known 
and what lies beyond

of all
a universe in
ever expanding wonder
body, brain, and soul
intricate workings
a marvelous mystery

End of all too
all roads, all lives 
return back to You
in time

Lord, You
make and unmake 
now remake me new
know me
name me
and love me too
when I circle back
iron drawn to Your magnet
a needle pulled ever 
to Your north

Day 19 – Poetry for Lent

Still, Small Whisper

Sometimes there is so much noise in the news, on social media. I feel like everyone is yelling and no one is listening. And then something happens, a friend in a car wreck, a co-worker loses a spouse, and it reminds me what is important–and what is just noise.


The wild, roaring 
rush of wind
surges through trees
like ocean breakers
crashing eternal 
on rocky shores.


Snapping branches
create staccato accents
amid percussive storms
that blow 
fear and hatred
through busy lives.


Hail rattles
down on hapless towns
hitting innocent bystanders
like stray bullets
and extinguishing the still, small 
whisper of love.


We are all
but a near miss,
 a second removed
from getting swept up 
and blown away.


Day 18 – Poetry for Lent


I would not leave
though she told me,
Go back, find rest
a husband
a home.

I could not leave
for she was 
a mother to me
her people, my family
her home, my home.

I dared not leave, for
how would she manage
alone and destitute
hands veined blue
legs morning shaky?

And so I followed
that I might be 
her hands young and strong
her legs spry in the morning
sturdy in the evening
her family in the new land
her daughter

Day 17 – Poetry for Lent

Muskrat Sighting

He shuffles along
in his fuzzy brown coat
little whiskery old man face
peering nearsighted around
in search of a mid-morning snack.
I step out the front door
to say hello, and he startles.
Those beetle-black eyes spot me
and he flees, 
odd bouncing gait comical, 
leathery tail dragging
behind like an unfastened belt.
Wait, I call,
but a faint splash from the ditch
is the muskrat's only answer.

I pile acorns by the bank
as a peace offering.

Day 16 – Poetry for Lent

Radical Grace

Revolution brewing                      Revolution
Hunger & rage                           brewing hunger
breed                                   and rage breed
Rebellion born                          unrest

Districts rise                          On a donkey
the Mockingjay                          Jesus
a symbol                                Savior
a tool unwillingly                      a Son willingly
wielded                                 sacrificed
to strike the capitol                   to save the people
violence justified                      forgiveness granted
They get what                           we got what
they deserve                            we didn't deserve

Day 15 – Poetry for Lent

Season Change

In Detroit today for a conference and when I was looking at the green water of the river, there was this weird whitish section floating down stream with birds sitting in the midst of it. I looked closer and noticed that it was a large chunk of ice. The Spring thaw is here!

icebergs on water
mini islands for the birds
spring thaw on rivers

Day 13 – Poetry for Lent

Negative Space

The idea of negative space has intrigued me ever since I had an instructor talk about it in an art class. So much of art can be applied to life, don’t you think?

I think I’ll play around with light and dark font/background for this piece. It might add to the impact. And of course, the poem itself is rough, but I think there are some good seeds here….

You must add the darks,
my art teacher said
to balance the lights.

    My darks creep in and
    muddy my light 

Negative space
my art teacher called it
The space that
surrounds an object
defines it boundaries
and finds its edges

    Depression confines me,
    cuts edges with razor blade steel

An object doesn't become real
my art teacher said
doesn't stand out
until you add shading.

     What I am not
     helps make what I am real

The mix of positive and negative space
my art teacher said
brings balance 
to a composition.
     Learning to think 
     in shades of gray
     brings balance
     to my life.

Day 12 – Poetry for Lent

As I head to work in the morning, I drive over the bayou bridge where I can see the sun rising in the East, and the moon still showing in the West. This particular poem catches my oh-so-often feeling of being caught in the middle of things and not knowing which way to go.

Somewhere Between

Red sun on my left
full moon on the right
here i am again
stuck ‘tween day and night

Dare i move south
or should i go north
i tremble with fear
afraid to sail forth

Opportunities abound
in what lies ahead
so why does it seem
there’s nothing but dread?

Go forth take a risk
sail on take a chance
you might be surprised
to enjoy the dance

But still i wait here
locked in the middle
hoping the sun
might move just a little.