Begotten Not Made – Guest Post: Seth Haines

I have gathered a few writer, poets, friends for a series of guest posts. Today I am  privileged to have a writer whose work I have marveled at for a little long while.

I could tell you a few things about this fellow Southerner, father of four boys who practices law, writes poetry and oh, is a musician as well. (He left a few things out of his bio, so I added them here. Host’s prerogative.) But his words tell well on their own.
Welcome Seth and his poetry.

++++++++++++++++++++

wpid-wp-1417438761271.jpeg

Begotten Not Made

And though he birthed the star alight,
he took to manger underneath
the humbled cry of stifled speech,
of own begotten form.

He suckled there at woman’s breast,
the mouth of God on human skin
he spoke before the world began,
to birth begotten form.

Confined to flesh and swaddled limbs
restrained his own eternal power;
the starry hosts in witching hour
announced begotten form.

And when the kobalt sky was new,
with blushing east and rising love,
creation ceased its groaning song
and held begotten form.

+++++++++++
"wpid-wp-</p

Seth Haines

Writer: sethhaines.wordpress.com

Editor: A Deeper Church

Contributor: Tweetspeak Poetry

Curator: Mother Letters

++++++++++++++++++

Joining Laura, a Monday tradition.

In Your Own Words — Restoration (A Guest Post On The Blog of Charity Singleton Craig)

Join me, please as I share my word of the week Restoration as part of a beautiful series hosted by my writer/friend/blogger Charity Singleton Craig.

Every other Thursday, Charity invites writers to writer about their word of the week. Mine,

Restoration — noun

the act or process of returning something to its original condition by repairing it, cleaning it, etc.

the act of brining back something that existed before

the act of returning something that was stolen or taken

wpid-wp-1411655557297.jpeg

Restoration

(Fly with me over to Charity’s. It is a beautiful place filled with her words and the words of her favorite writers.  And my poem is featured there today. What an honor. Join us...Click the link and you’ll be there by the magic and mystery of the internet)

Waiting On The Super Moon

 

Blue Moon HMM

 

 

Waiting On A Super Moon

She came at the dark like
A mad woman
Chasing it with a frenzied pent up
Mother bear
Mother hen
Don’t mess with me
Mad at the thief
Who steals the light

Righteous indignation

Weary from her spinning round
She stopped to catch her breath
And caught a glimpse of
Heaven
For
In the end

It was there
She rested in the Truth

In reminders
Of Creation’s dazzling
Strength
Super Moons and super Hope
And raging alone in darkness
Would be
No more

The brightest Light could douse the flames
Lapping at her feet
Would drown the darkness
And the thief

The dark could never win
And she could finally sleep
Rest

Until the next time
She would come at the dark
Like a mad woman
Chasing it with a frenzied pent up …

By the Light of the Moon

 

 

Change


Change

She longed to change
Things
The ones with a beat
Red, pulsing, pumping the blood
To crack open the norm
Celebrate poetry with prose
Run in the opposite direction
Refuse to settle
Zig while they zag
Rise up and whisper above the screams
Press mute on the debate
Call for peace while there was war
Light a fire on the first day of Spring
Speak as silence suffocates the voiceless
In the spinning
Untangle the web
Raise the white flag
Cry for mercy
Shed tears for grace
Unfurl the banner of enough is enough
Tattoo love on her wrist to remind her of
Wood and nails
Set sail
For calm and deep in
Oceans of counterclockwise in a sea of clockwise
And dream of a world
In which Change would come

And Change remained
Died and rose again
And Change redeemed
Sweet dreams, lovers of Change
Easter is near
All will soon shout
Alleluia’s
Again