RodWords

Selections From 

TOPICAL FRUIT 

April 1990 to September 1991

Sweet God

God, sweet God,

Father with the 

twinkling eyes,

Father of the

Flaming Glory,

God of the

delicate leaf,

Your kiss begins

a baby's heartbeat

Your touch grows

Magnificent fountains

Your blink, and

the Earth falls dark,

Your smile, we

have daylight.

Your love, and

cinder-men

blossom into

shuddering flowers

born up from

histrionic dirt,

ashes washed

clean into

diamonds...

God, sweet God

pull me up from

the ruts of religion,

new-plant me

in the Garden of

All.

         EASTER MORNING

Today,

All day,

the roaring silence,

Christ is risen from the grave,

Every heart in open anthem

Jesus has the power to save!

Empty lives

like shells, like coffins,

Now lift Life to glowing blaze

Joining in Creation's rapture,

Worship Him with living praise.

Now at night, after the singing

After every word is said,

Joyous song beats on eternal,

Christ is risen from the dead!

         He Rose

Down

Folded deep

in the rose, where

nobody knows

where no beetle goes

folded flannel

in burgundy-red,

curl rich velvets,

layered tongue

mist-blankets

finer than silk

redder than scarlet

darker than blood,

here hides the

shrouded agloria,

as silent as

fine-folded tomb clothing,

roaring with the truth

spilled like boulders

from the cave,

     He is Risen,

          Hallelujah,

                 Hallelujah!

Prints Along

I want to follow You,

Down the woody-wooden path,

The places You will go,

will be

the places I will go,

The things You see and do

as

the things I see and do,

O

Lord,

Galilee and me,

prints in 

Eastern/Western sand,

I   w a n t   t o   f o l l o w   Y o u  .

Put Your prints along

the places of this day,

so I can

follow You.

 Fun stuff from my first radio show, FunLight Radio.
176 episodes flew out to over 100 affiliates from 1989 to 1999.

ANT = ANTS

One ant

meandering

across the bathroom tile

represents

100 more ants,

marching

along the underside

of the floor,

working their way

toward 

my

toes.

         PAST IS PRESENT

Where's the little-boy

I used to be?

Inside of me,

Inside of me!

Buried deep in

a depth of days,

a million lines

a million ways.

He's playing in

another time,

down streets

past lamps I

left behind.

Still he lives

and still he plays

and boards the bus

for outer space.

Sometimes I feel

I'm adult--that's all,

until my thoughts

stray down the hall

back in the rows

of books in box

or dialing Kirk for

boyhood talks.

'Tis then I find

the smaller me,

like a wealth of

roots beneath a tree.

And looking down,

I find, sublime,

my younger self

freeze-locked in time.

My little-me,

I love, I keep,

we both grab pillows

and go to sleep.

So old, so young,

I both shall be:

My past is present

inside of me!

         PEARL

Along the way a clam will smile,

And open his mouth to swallow a trial.

A thousand days below the sea,

The Spirit works dark mystery.

An oyster opens his iron jaw,

Pulls inside him a pestering flaw.

The clam, the oyster drinks into shell,

A rock, a pebble -- who can tell?

A million chewings, an epoch of time,

the rock is rolled in sullen slime.

The clam is careful to coat the stone,

A holy wrapping of flesh on bone.

A spot of sand, a dot of silt,

gradually sewn a sweater of silk.

The trial is smothered in tongue, in touch,

embraced, accepted, loved twice as much.

Until years later, the fisherman's knife,

Will pry from the oyster this swallowed strife.

With crack of jaw does the tongue unfurl

The gift of death, a shining pearl.

Now sin, the stone, and belief the knife,

Our Christ has swallowed death in Life.

New Life abounds for every boy and girl,

Open your heart and receive the Pearl.

         Old Spice

Every morning after a shave,

I turn to take the tapered flask

And pull up the scented cork

To remember my father's task.

'Twas years ago, as boy of five,

I'd crane my neck and stretch to see

The sliding shaver upon his skin,

Four feet on floor, my Dad n' me.

The electric hum along his cheek,

The softened glow of window light,

That filtered through the rippled glass

To make the morning rich and right.

After the buzz-box snapped into case,

The mirror closed in a moment's flash.

The bottle would leave the lofty shelf,

The liquid to smack his face with a splash.

'Twas years ago, my storybook past,

I'd feel his face soft, clean and nice.

and breathe the fragrance I carry today,

I proudly wear my Dad's Old Spice. 

COME SHOELESS

Back to simple,

Back to free,

Back to one

And two and three.

Back to Father

Come back to love,

Back to resting

Hand in glove.

Leave the tremor

The quake behind,

Come roll the slopes

of tranquil mind.

God is calling

Be silent, be still,

Come shoeless and quiet

to the cross on the hill.

Come lay back

Under windless breath,

trade peace and life

for strife and death.

Ascent

I climbed

my dream

to the 

tallest tree,

I climbed

a ladder,

my mind

and

me,

'till higher

than

sunshine, 

than

clouds,

space or

air,

I climbed 

into 

Heaven

and

laughed

standing

there.