Monday, August 29, 2011


From Paul's dark glass shattered
an ancient shard pierced my heart
a wound for which there is no healing
but instead eternal gratitude
for finally living
it is neither anguish or joy
but some unmapped region in between

driving in a van on 285
dodging angry spirits
behind the wheels of hurtling
4000 pounds of prestige
with chrome wheels
satellite radios and fine leather seats
quietly with a pierced heart
I say The Liturgy For Vans On 285

If this makes me odd then
I'm looking for the community of odd folks
singing "shall our hearts forget his promise, 'I am with you evermore"
giving Christ heads bodies legs and arms
bumbling and stumbling
manifesting God again and again
manifesting in fits and starts
in you
in me

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