HOW STILL the SONGBIRD LIES

HARPER'S FERRY

Were I endowed an artist
So skilled with hues and brush
I'd paint a spread before you
Of two sweeping blue rivers of time
At the juncture where they become
The broad Potomac that fades beyond.

There burly railroad bridges
Like stretching black sabers
Span the blue flows between ranges
Where the gaping chasms converge.

Deep green protective shades
Tower by river and canal
Where lavender clusters spill
From Princess trees like waterfalls.

Upon the river's level banks
Sturdy brick buildings remain
Where drained the blood red tide
Of a nation long divided.
There John Brown to free the slaves
Fanned smoldering sparks to flame.

Nearby buildings and massive walls
Of a strife torn history speak
As tourists ascend ancient streets
To higher elevations
Of cathedral and steeple
And table rock teetering nearby.

There told are time's sad lessons—
Man's problems are resolved
As together all struggle
To bleeding altars of sacrifice.

It was there I met a traveler
Who silent stood and stared
At gross inequities
And soils of history
But did not say a word,
Though he walked three states to get there.

To you humble sage
My poem I dedicate.
But still I ponder why
God made such beauty cry.

THE BOUNDARY OF YES

It is the squeaking wheel
That always gets the oil.
But always to persist
Denies the obvious.
There is no positive
Without the negative.
The outer boundary
Of yes is always no.
Tears of disappointment
Become the tears of joy.
So if your day is no
You’ll find the way to go.

STURDY FENCES

Nothing so deep distresses—
Hurting a happy marriage—
As those public exchanges
That hang regrets about the neck.

Off each goes departing
Amid loud accusations.
Now it’s in the open.
Whispers sow thoughtless remarks.

Marriage strong in secret
Is publicly shaken.
Flee the place where love bleeds;
Do not hazard true love again.

Blessed is the marriage
Where the ties are guarded
In a fortress hallowed—
Quick tongues foster divorce.

Drive in sturdy fence posts
Wrapping windings round them.
Do not venture beyond
Until tongue regains love’s bounds.

ANONYMOUS AGE

At times I see a scene transfigured
Arising from this sad earth's ruins,
A scene that was or might have been
Amid ghostlike pallid structures.

I see the ends of boarded houses
And snows piling at the corners,
The trees and shrubs in graying background,
The tidy sheds and fences covered.

Soon it escapes fast slipping on,
In days or weeks returning.
Does it lure to past identities,
Tease the mind to futile queries?

What precious days arise and fade
In that far land and wintry grave?
What stark simplicity visits
Leaving portents of tragedy?

What heartless tyrant sears the souls
Of guardians and innocents
Shedding drops of blood on life’s roads
Fading into an anonymous distance?

LOVE AND CRUCIFIXION

Cruel death was like an ebb tide drawing out
Both mother and son in last moments to death.
A cat that teases the slow tiring mouse,
She watched as weariness took His breath.
Each strong receding wave washed Him beyond
Until at last death’s waters folded Him under.
But what of her when He at last was gone—
The violent throngs, His temple torn asunder?
Yet in death He gave as much as to her promised
From the Father into her care delivered.
Thus He beheld her patient faithful love
As Christ in God’s hands commended His Spirit.
And so what seemed but futile injustice
Provides our path to life through sin and death.

Luke 23:46