Today I am honored to have a poem of mine appearing at Burnside Writer’s Collective. Thank you for following me and my poetry over there. Follow the bread crumbs, well on second thought, just click this link. The poem is entitled “Intimacy”. May you discover and come to know God in all his magnificent beauty and love, power and strength in new ways. Always. But especially in these days, leading up to Thanksgiving. Counting gifts. The sea and salt, yes they are two of the grandest gifts of all, to me.

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Discover more writing on faith at Burnside Writers dot com.

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Hyperbolic Love

Hyperbolic Love

If I stretch the chambers of my heart
As fingers of a child do
At play
I do
With silly putty
It is work
Laboring in love,
We wrap blood and muscle
Round and round
Till death
If I part the seas of raging water
Between us
And calm them
With a tender word
No man nor woman
Indeed no one at all
May put  asunder our fragile love
That which is joined by God
Mark, Matthew, and
The Methodist priest
I stretch the proclamation
In sacred acts of faith
A holy mystery
For I have been
The rusty gate
And I have
Been a wrecking ball
Into the wall
Of his beating heart
And yet
The Patient
And I would
Call it no small feat
Though war analogies are old and tired
Cliches of power, yawn sigh yawn
Show strength ad infinitum
And so
We must claim a form of victory
In this joining of two souls
And with all of Webster’s
From which
To choose
A word or two
There is no stretching
Of this truth
That what we have is
Hyperbolic love
Running on the holy fumes
And thus far
No asundering looms
On love’s
Quarter century mark
By grace
All four chambers filled
With what sweetly smacks
A wholly, holy
Regenerated life in love
And if you were to ask
By two hearts stretched by hyper-extended grace.


Joining Laura

The Necklace

It was gold. It was a circular, pliable, bendable, wire.

It still is.

He purchased it on our trip. The one we took the day after we stood before the robed one and said, forever, we do. And there were hundreds there. And really the One who matters the most, the Most High. He was there.

He still is.

Today is always a new mercy morning. This one is our twenty four year mark. Of being linked and bendable and pliable. And tomorrow will be a new mercy morning. And the portal into the quarter century mark on a conjoined life.

It has held much, the wire. It has been to weddings and funerals and celebrations and church. On it has been threaded pearls and coins. An octopus and a turtle have hung from there too.

And there was the coin from the bottom of the sea with the cross, raised you can run your fingers over and touch the trinity, or is  it deep-grooved recessed. Or is it both. Around the neck on the wire, it is heavy and it is large, but it is beautiful. Hammered encircling the coin, on the wire, the others, the dolphin, the seahorse, the sealife, the handwrought others.

And it, like the wire was a gift. From the Patient One who is here. And doing life and loving sweet, tender, deep, and gentle.

And bearing, like the wired gold treasure.

Who dripped sweat from his brow the day we said the vows and still does. Because of all the work. Long days. Long weeks. Laboring in love.

And of all the things we’ve lost, many and much that was lost. But not missed. There is no lacking. There is no want or need. Really.

We never lost the gold circuitous wire.

The one that holds the things. The one that she wears.

The one he gave in love.

And it is strong and weight-bearing. Capable of holding the delicate and the heavy.

A slim gold wire. always marking the early on. Always marking the continuity of the continuous conjoined love.

Wrapping around the neck, in love. Gold. Worthy of a gift to the stable. Given by a wise man.

Bending, not breaking. And holding treasures.

Always. At least we have today.

And the words we said before the Holy One infront of the robed one and the hundreds, they echo sacred, they echo soft. And two gold rings wrapped around, in love.

Twenty four years ago today. The glorious day we have, in love.

This is a post written with Amber and a community of writers on the one word prompt necklace.

Counting gifts, hopefully forever, but at least for today:

Marriage, twenty four years.
A doctor’s visit with a child that will lead to change… it looks promising, it looks good.
A night of celebrating, its all up in the air, its all good.
A night with all three kiddos home… rare and welcome…makes my momma heart soar.
A long talk with my momma after she left the hospital. It was so very long & wonderful.
The sun is shining bright though they’ve called for rain.
Time with the man/child in our bedroom right before we fall asleep. Precious.
Plans are made to be with friends a long way away for a wedding. Joy.
Laughter and open lines of communication with a child.
The kindest comments from the kindest readers any blogger could wish for.
New friends.
Wonderful time on the river. Beautiful friends. Beautiful day. A long boat ride to a yummy burger.

And linking too with Ann for Multitudes on Mondays and Michelle at Michelle DeRusha dot com. And Laura for Playdates. And with Jen at SDG


A Wild Ride

She jumps on her keyboard like a kid on his flexible flyer in new white snow and uses what she has, her imperfect hybrid of prose and poetry, a blend of mix of words to communicate her heart, her soul in a five minute race through a life, like the space ship racing back from Mars, with all the stories all the discovery to tell of in a short news blast or bleep or headline, and she realizes that there is a reason she never liked cliff notes, spark notes, condensed telling of long very long beautiful stories.  Stories that tell of chapter after chapter after chapter of the beautiful, the God gifts. She wonders how she could ever, would ever race against a timepiece in her telling of what unimaginable transformation has taken place. She rushes and stumbles and hurries her heart where she knows it would be better to slow and stop and pray and ponder. But she has a short amount of time to tell. So she slows and breaks the chains that tie her like a prisoner to the moving hands of the clock to say that in this place of God created union between the man she knows as husband, the changes…every single last one of them have been the thing, just the thing she needed all along. Each move, each child, each kiss, each hurt. Every sadness, every joy, and every trial. The stress, the loss, the strain, the gain. He knew, the One that brought them out of the sea of humanity into the arms of the other….He knew that she would change Him and He would change Her and that the wild ride down the hill on their flexible flyer would fill them with Joy and a rich rich life of the Beautiful. And they wouldn’t change one thing.

{In full disclosure, I had to CHANGE a letter or two so this piece on Change would not sound like chump change 🙂 I couldn’t let One go uncapitalized when I was talking to well, the One who is Lord. So with one or two minor Changes, this is my five minute Friday writing. Sorry too, that my clock had no hands as it is a computer and that I find it hard to do math in my head while I am racing the clock. GOT GRACE??}

This post is part of a Five-Minute Friday link-up. Today’s word prompt is  CHANGE.

Linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker for 5-Minute Fridays at Lisa Jo Baker dot com.