Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Pentecost +10, Yr C)

SONNET FOR AN UNFINISHED GROWER
(Isaiah 5: 1-7; Psalm 80: 8-19)

She steps among the briers and the thorns,
her grieving heart unsure of what she’ll find.
The ruin of what once were luscious vines,
the wreck of so much love: it makes her mourn.

Here and there among the tangle of weeds
a lonely vine still shows, and small clusters
of green globes defiant; and she musters
hope that it can be saved. She knows the need

will be for sweat and toil and tears, love’s pain.
She sighs, her bent knees touch the soil, fingers
reach and tug. Is thus how God’s love lingers
to till our hearts and tangled world again?

Perhaps this vineyard yet can grow as meant
the fruits of justice, leaves of peace unbent.

^{Copyright ©2019 by Andrew King}

Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Epiphany 7, Yr A)

TO SEE BEYOND DIVISION
(Matthew 5:38-48)

O Healer of all brokenness,
help us repent of vengefulness
and send your mercy as the sun and rain.
Giver of all gentleness,
lead us away from selfishness
that we may walk with all who dwell in pain.

Creator, grant us vision
to see beyond division,
seeing even enemies as beloved too.
May we with bold decision
bring forgiveness to fruition;
and by your gift of grace our selves renew,

that we, our own hearts mending,
to others your love lending,
embrace your kingdom coming into view.
Use us, and in our sending,
the seeds of peace thus tending,
we’ll lift a new world’s joyfulness to you.

^{Copyright ©2017 by Andrew King}

Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Pentecost +4, Yr C)

FORGIVEN
(Luke 7:36 – 8:3)

As if with a great wound healed,
bleeding sealed and the pain
of each day’s deep cuts gone
though not forgotten,
she pours in thanks the salt gift of her tears.

As if with a great weight lifted,
straightening a back bent low by defeat,
bonds of grief that daily crippled
undone though not forgotten,
she makes of his feet an altar for her praise.

As if with precious treasure blessed,
spilling the cupped heart’s richness and
an inner ache of emptiness stilled
though not forgotten,
she anoints the dusty feet with finest oil.

As if in new skin clothed
and shining showing the lovely blood
of a lost life found, saved
and not forgotten,
she wipes his feet with the gentleness of her hair.

And as if with her among us, we at table gathered,
graced, and Christ’s goodness touching,
hearing our own names called
in forgiveness never to be forgotten –
open our hearts and hands to serve him
in loving joyfulness of life.

^{Copyright ©2016 by Andrew King}

Poem For The Sunday Lectionary (Pentecost +14)

FORGIVENESS IS . . .
Matthew 18: 21-35

Forgiveness is sending flowers
with a card of congratulations
to one who has come through
suffering: yourself.

Forgiveness is taking the stone
that broke the blade of the plow
and transferring it to the center
of your garden.

Forgiveness is digging a hole
into cracked and thirsty earth
and not just pouring in water
but planting a tree.

Forgiveness is emptying the goblet
into which you poured the poison
and placing it, clean and shining,
on the farthest shelf.

Forgiveness is shaking loose
the pinched, cracked skin
you have been living in
and leaving it behind for the crows.

Forgiveness is tearing in two the curtains
that enclosed your heart’s hurting
and letting in the dusty light
to bathe the wound.

Forgiveness is removing the pins
from the wings of two
dead butterflies
and watching both those butterflies
fly away free.