If I Would See If I would see me from beside, Beside the self whose eyes divide Each action from the thought, Would I see a different man or not? The spirit knows the inner me But flesh and limbs can better see What my thoughts have wrought, The goals I’ve truly sought. Intentions, motives, rise and fall Though speak …
The Relativist’s Song
The Relativist’s Song Have you seen me walk on air? With lofty speculation I make each thoughtful stair It rises higher, higher as my musings plumb and dare to search the depths of meaning made. I despise those who rise– who impose their meaning here; for there is no story to explain my story, there is no meta-narrative. All that …
Fresh
Some Thoughts on Novelty and “Re-vision” Sometimes we only want something because it is fresh. We want it not because it is substantial, not because it is what we need, but because it is something different and new. I fear this is the same mentality that has crept into my mind in regard to writing. I don’t want to post something old. I want …
Thin Religion
Thin Religion In a week without the Word in few places I seek the Lord My prayers are found in food, though sometimes missing; they’re in an anxious sigh when in danger my foot is slipping; they’re in a tiny rock stuck in my eye; they’re in a half-hearted cry within, when lying down to rest All in all, they’re …
Ask
What is there to say to him who knows the answer but still asks? To him who looks with burdened eyes But masks the sorrow with a dry smile and a pile of fines and thank you’s? Nothing. But if speech should prevail and pity boil over the brims of curious care Speak. Speak love. Then ask, to pierce the …
A Poem for Easter
I first wrote this poem for myself, but it turned into something I want to proclaim to everyone. May it be an encouragement. On Resurrection Day May Christ be resurrected in our hearts; may joy and gladness not overflow from the looks and prods of those around but from sweet assurance in the inner part of soul– His sanctuary, His …
Fatigue
The road rose up before us higher and higher as we approached the last steep climb of our bike ride. It was not only the last, but also the biggest. Fifteen miles later and then this climb. Why now? when we’re already tired! My legs started feeling real signs of fatigue which I hadn’t felt up until this point. I …
A Paradox
A Paradox A paradox by carnal minds not contrived Sits nestled in a child’s hand: A corpse from putrid death revived To forever righteous stand A simple faith and love, and awe Of most profound and deep, deep truth, Yet even child can learn and draw Still captive to his stumb’ling youth The cross, the Christ on Cal’vry’s mount The …
Ode to a Scythe: A Pastoral
Ode to a Scythe: A Pastoral By Timothy Berezhnoy Hand to handle—wooden stave— weighted with a gleaming blade. The wheat rises, ripe and swaying on this cold crisp morn ready to be mowed with uniform motion of the edge that glides guided by my hands. The work begins, the swaying side to side, again, again with fellow blades and men …