Sunday, July 31, 2011

Twelve Baskets Full

Twelve Baskets Full

Today, I preached.
The day was a watermelon, sweet and made
to cool the heat. Seeds spit into fertile soil
of being alive. The word of the Lord
came upon me like a bee searching
for orange lilies. The text I worked
was two, Paul wishing his people
would return to the lord to point
of having himself accursed by God
and Jesus feeding the five thousand.
Such compassion. All compassion
is like a chef emptying his pantry
for a meal he will not intend to eat, only
to be invited after the first course. Again,
it is a minivan drive by a man longing
to drive the convertible at home
in his garage. Again, compassion
empties itself like a paper cup of coffee
consumed by a doughnut maker
at 2:00 am in the morning. Then I
prayed for a man with caner,
his wife looking at through the glass
of wonder and fear. Then, I talk
with others. Then, I pushed my
two year old in red jogger home, stopping
at park for a bit, stopping to raid
Cherry tree. My son was asleep
as we got home. He remained
asleep as I gently placed him in the crib.
Then, a voice said, "See, you shall call nations
that you do not know, and nations
that do not know you shall run to you, because
 of the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel,
for he has glorified you."
Amen


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