Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Tidings of a Runaway Clock

Wasn't it just January?
One month in to a "polar vortex" winter?

Then the spring.
Warmth finally returning.

Weren't we all just complaining about the heat yesterday?
That "polar vortex" wasn't that bad, surely...

Here we are again.
The leaves dropping and a chill in the air.

Time flies.
Like some madman is messing with the clocks.

A day is a year.
A month a day.

So much happening.
Life passing before our eyes.

Old life, over life, new life.
Swoosh! Blink and it's all gone.

The tidings of a runaway clock.
Ticking us onward.

Whether we like it or not..

K.J.K.  11/11/2014

Monday, December 15, 2014

The Pathway Series

            Today I have posted the "Pathway" series of poems.  Blogger is displaying the poems in reverse of their proper reading order.  To avoid confusion you can read the poems in their proper reading order by clicking on the links below:

  1. Stars of Wax
  2. Communion
  3. The Path

*Images used under license from Nova Development and Click Art

The Path

(Pathways Three)

There is a path, along Wild Brush road.
It twists and turns.
Goes up a hill, down a valley, up another hill.

The path goes on and on.
As do we who walk it.
Picking up thistles along the way.

The knees hurt.
Petition for rest -
That is not forthcoming.

The path is hard.
It's not easy.
Although it should be second nature.

Comfortable like a favorite pair of jeans.
Worn in.
But never, ever fading away.

It's a way of life.
We are suppose to live.
To put in to practice.

Not just to listen to -
Like the book.
Read aloud in church.

We are to love others as ourselves.
And it's hard.
And we fail.

That's alright.
Jeans are meant to be dusted off after a fall.
Like sin is washed away by Jesus's love.

So, the path is hard.
There are miles to go.
Before we rest, before we rest.

K.J.K.  - 11/2/2014


(Pathways Two)

Communion frightened me.
I felt not worthy of such a gift.

The invitation to table, called.
I stayed in my seat.

I once heard a voice in my head.
"I understand why you feel this way but you are more than welcome in my house."

These were real words.
Not something overheard or imagined.

There was no one there, but there was.

Still, I stayed in my seat.
The obstinate child afraid of the change already coming within.

Months pass.
Seasons change.

The invitation to table, called.
The seat never cools down because I do not rise.

After service.
A friend listens to me as I talk about all this stuff.

As we talk she hands me a vanilla cream cookie.
My mind draws a conclusion.

No words this time just a thought:
"Do this in memory of me.."

I eat the cookie as tears come to my eyes.
Leaving my friend perplexed.

Communion doesn't frighten me anymore.

K.J.K.  09/14/2014

Stars of Wax

(Pathways One)

A hundred candles are lit.
Maybe more.

Silent night, holy night.
Wax stars flickering in hands that trembled.

What led to this moment?
Started so long ago.

In a past, now muted by the years -
Gone by.

Do you believe in Angels?
Winged or not.

I have seen my share.
Enough to know that they are real.

Even if they don't believe.
In their own existence.

To a Christmas gathering -
In the most unlikely of places.

Was it really a den of iniquity?
Were we thieves?

Or looking for answers?
Even though the questions were never asked.

What led to this moment?
Flickering candles on Christmas eve.

Love, Love, Love.

It wasn't just his Son he sent.
It was all of us too.

K.J.K.  07/25/2014