Songs of Unexpected Help

Reflecting on discovering the help through dark times, and light on the other side, God’s grace found in Christ and in the loving hands of others bring brought to mind these two poems I wrote last summer, as I began to break out of the dark shadow of grief which followed my experience of loss and trauma at the unexpected death of my late wife.

I hope they bless you.  I would love to hear your experience of unexpected grace.

Your progressive redneck preacher,





The stillness speaks

in crevices of rocks,

in whispered voices of rustling leaves,

in flowing streams that call out in wordless rhymes

our hearts hear, as they interpret for us

thoughts too deep

for our conscious minds to know

in cicada cries that set my spirit dancing

in step with echoes of a knowing deep and true,

beyond all images, even language itself.


cosmic-christThese thin places, o Cosmic Christ,

are where I feel

your hand taking mine

like my own brother

leading me up craggy cliffs

as we climb beyond mist-filled valleys

dim with shadow

BroodySpirit3embraced by that Spirit

whose song surrounds us

in every greening leaf

scurrying squirrel

and heartbroken face

now cracking with the dawning

of laughter, song, and story

where the full-throated wail

of sorrow, trauma, loss once reigned.






Merry Meet


This icon of the Trinity draws on the feminine images used in Scripture for the Holy Spirit, as a reminder that women as well as men can bear the image of God.

O Three-fold dancer,

how you dazzle

all my imaginings

here atop sun-lit peak,

your rhythms wrapping me

in life



holy spirit like wind

emerging from within

the all surrounding womb of life.


O grace beyond all seeing,

when I but grasp

your slender thread,

letting it lead me,

spiritual companion 2

laying aside who I am,

how I find not just you

but myself again

and deep within that soul,

now made clear as crystal,

I see, like a town glimpsed in snow globe sphere,

all that is

no longer concealed by grief’s shadows

nor buried by muck from shame’s deep latrines

but now bathed in light

simply as it is,

alive, whole, cradled, innocent and pure

in the goodness of your Mother-love

held in strong hands


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