Even a poem has a pause.
A place to taste a word or phrase,
a pull-off to take in a view,
or grow accustom to a thought.

It is the comma,
the period,
the exclamation point,
…the requisite punctuation.

We pause at important places,
the emphasis essential,
or lost
because arrival was too important.

the silence is not empty
   just foreign
      for someone practiced in performing…
         in a  frantic self where
the words,
   a flood held back.

the dam breaks
   so grateful for an ear
      they tumble out
         and strike a Rock,
to settle in the pond
   to wait.

 

Another poem from my daughter-in-law, Kelly Herbert

Grandfather Oak
by Kelly Herbert

An oak tree in autumn,
Has the nostalgic power
Not unlike the timeless smell of grandpa’s aftershave.
Its reassuring stance fills the eye,
Warm and familiar.
They will linger through the winter,
Those golden leaves,
Holding on to the memory of a life well lived.
Curling slightly,
Leathery,
Crisp.
Unlike a maple leaf,
They do not call out to grab your eye;
Their color,
Consistent and friendly,
Is indifferent to the flamboyance of fall.

 

what was it like
i wonder as i wait…
for the people to pass
through the tunnel…
that passage in the night.
   a birth to the other side.
pushed by the labor, then
   pushed by the army…
out of the womb of Egypt
   out of the familiar past…
      through that passage in the night
to the other side of the sea.

the veil is thin
when we sit upon the birthing stool.

   what must i do
   i wonder as i wait…
      to pass through this tunnel…
      this passage in the night.
in the moonlight
in the starlight i struggle.
   so i might see
      out of the familiar
         through a passage in the night
            to the other side
of me.

 

Jesus why did you cross the sea
and only one man set free?
From the chaos in his life,
and the rags of his mind,
from the fragments of family,
and the shackles of time?

You saw that man
with eternity’s care,
You took his rags
and claimed them as yours,
and clothed him instead
with a mind that was clear

Jesus, you crossed eternity,
You spoke peace to a man,
peace to the world,
you silenced with your word…
and gathered fragments
and rags…
to replace what was…
for eternity’s chair.

I spent 4 months meditating on Luke 8:22-39 in the early months of 2015. Four months of thinking about what it was like for that man, for the observers, and for the family in the story.  One man whose mind was filled with so much chaos created by demons past and present. A man rejected and separated from family, friendship, society… from love.  Then Jesus came.