On Second Thought

wpid-20140118_161227.jpgThough forward is the best way to ride this pony
She is a bucking bronco these days
Going through it, not around it is the new black
We wade through mire and muck, almost daily
To get to the other side
Crossing that River Jordan, against the tide
Hope is our water wings
Wearing hip boots and waders
Given to us at birth, we
Redemption’s froth and foam
Splashing us, reviving us, saving us
Oh Lord my strength and my redeemer.

On second thought
It is all about the journey
It is the wading and crossing
The pluff mud soiled garments
That say
I got down and dirty
I lived
Not high and dry
Not Clorox clean
But travel weary and worn out

Traveling, still
Facing forward
No milk toast Kumbaya’s
But rather
A raucous rant and rave
Of an old spiritual sung from the
Laborers in the field
That’s our battle-cry

And Gloria Gaynor’s
“I Will Survive”
Played on repeat with those soulful
Spirituals from back in the Southern day
Not hanging on, surviving
But thriving, surviving
Running the good race
Well and good
Knocked down
Got back up again

On second thought
I am in the belly of the whale
But safe in His arms
I am on the roadside, loved
By the Samaritan
Man he is good
And I am writing from prison
As Paul
Yet I am free

Oh journey you teach well and good
Oh journey
I am in the saddle, saddle sores and all
But I am facing ever toward the Cross
Wearing my water wings of hope

Your Rod and Staff comfort me
And I am humming Gloria Gaynor
And the Hallelujah chorus
And those cotton picking ballads from the
Painful places of our past, down South
Banjo on my knee
Harmonica in my mouth.

At the fork in the road
Go straight toward redemption
And don’t look back.


Joining Laura Boggess for #playdateswithGod and Michelle at Michelle De Rusha dot com

Bending Into The Blue

oak park tree my fave

bending into the blue

we’re dusted up a bit
after a storm blew through
roughed us up a bit too
the days cracked open like
a meteor fell from the
akin to the Russian one
the cracks wide
like caverns of crazy
and then death marched around
this place
in twos again, but it could be three soon
we’re dusted up a bit with
death and sadness

but we bend into the light
till the ground to bury roots
not heads
hold them high
toward the light, it pierces the dark
and melts the frozen sheets of sadness
the calm after the storm
can’t come soon enough
we look for redemption to sing loud soon

we are still dusted up a bit
like we were thrown off a horse at the rodeo
bruised the tender places
like the heart and soul
more than the backside
pain wakes up the sleeping
it rocks and jolts
cold water on the face wakes up the
ones dozing off into complacency
smacks the sleeping from their slumber

we were banged up a big
surprised by the sting
rocked by the moving currents
blizzard conditions prevailed awhile
bundle up hold on hunker down
when the artic blast comes your way
put the covering on, layers and layers of
the garment he gives
the full armour

but we bend into the blue
the color of strength
IBM chose it for a reason
the meek shall inherit the earth
and these are the days leading up to
more of it, redemption
the robin’s eggs and bluebirds will deliver spring
and songs will awaken the frozen earth
praise has a way of healing the broken
Lord we are ready, the table is set

we are bending into the blue
the color of heaven
we cried to them, the celestial places
loud and long, joined by a chorus of angels
we are certain we heard their harmony
we’re made strong when weak
because heaven heard and hears
our cries
he sees the sparrow and we are seen
bruised, busted, broken, blue in spirit

bend into the blue with me
the color of grace and mercy
there is melting of the pain
when the light comes down and warms our
frozen frigid frosty souls and hearts
out of the blue
the sting of death
has lost its sting
a bit

we are bending
and singing

into the blue

joining emily and the imperfect prose community for some words on redemption