Here’s another note-taking poem, this based on a sermon from All Saint’s Day.
Sometimes I Cannot Always Be There
If only I had the knowledge
or experience or energy,
I would see the glory of my son
in white robes and black stole
open his mouth in a wide O,
the sound of his voice blending
with other children’s voices all
filling this place with expectation:
A man can rise from the dead.
A virgin can conceive a son.
The worst thing in life is not
death, but life without belief
that life can be better.
After tricks or treats comes All Saints.
After the candy comes communion.
After the costumes come new robes
all the same for all of them who sing.
NOTE: Lots of cool things continue to go on at HighCallingBlogs.com as that community builds its energy and momentum. We’re hoping to receive approval from our sponsoring organization to open the network again on January 1, 2010. In the meantime, I don’t have much energy for GoodWordEditing.com except to toss up some of the poems I write. (Especially considering how much of my personal energies are currently diverted to helping my agent sell my zombie book.)
I don’t know, L.L., if this poem qualifies for the prompt Sam listed at the bottom of his faith and culture article at HighCallingBlogs.com last week. It is a love poem of sorts, but not following the rules you laid out.
