Tuesday, January 13, 2015

The Beauty of God

madmen in masks
suicide bombers
sunday saints
gay bashers

my own life out of balance, too.

a spur of the moment stop,
no one else in the sanctuary,
I considered Christ on his cross,
poinsettias in profusion below his wounded feet.

the peace
and beauty
of God came into me
and it felt like love,
like respite,
like hope.

all motherless creatures will understand
why I cried, as a person can sometimes do,
when undone by the touch of silent kindness.



Cloudia said...

Powerful Perfect Panacea, Poetess

ALOHA from Honolulu

TexWisGirl said...

given straight from the heart - to ours.

Mama Zen said...

This touched me.

Sioux said...

Shay--You slay me when you write serious pieces like this or when you write something that's lighter.

"Motherless creatures" and "the touch of silent kindness" touched me...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Me too...."motherless creatures", with which I resonate, and being undone by kindness.......have been teary myself these past several days....a beautiful poem, Shay.

Carol Steel said...

What does it say about our daily lives that a single silent kindness produces recognition and tears? This touched me deeply. I love your words.

hedgewitch said...

Fluid and simply said, this flows to its conclusion like a river through shadow, under ice, coming out n the open to flash in the sun. There is somewhere buried in all of us this capacity to love and be loved with a whole heart that eases every pain, but 99 out of a hundred lose it with childhood and never find it anywhere again--so good that this poem does.

Sara said...

wow. I loved the last stanza. Well, I also like the opening one and the ways you used the words. But most of all, I like the message.

Kenn Merchant said...

We all have a spiritual calling every once in a while, and this poem obviously hints at yours. Great work Shay!

Anonymous said...

I read this differently. I found the last line to be chilling, a warning to believers. On the one hand, yes, a silent kindness can be a beautiful thing if you're talking about giving that doesn't ask for recognition or appreciation. But another way to read "silent kindness" is that the kindness didn't happen at all. In other words, you were pouring yourself out at the foot of the cross (metaphorically speaking), and God's people did nothing to be kind to you. They were silent. But they sure were eager to bring in the poinsettias. I think the poem could be read in different ways, but I initially perceived that all sinners are welcome at the cross, but that if God's people aren't there to be the hands and feet of Jesus, so to speak, what will we all find there? What peace and wholeness is to be found if Christians don't offer kindness that is louder than silence.

Either reading is beautiful and poignant. But I choose to take this as a reminder that decorating a sanctuary cross with flowers doesn't offer much, other than beauty (as is mentioned in the title, which I think you intend to be sarcastic). There is real and deep need in so many hearts that must be met with more than an annual donation to the flower-arrangement fund.

At the same time, there is absolutely a very real and deep beauty in having an unexpected encounter with the Holy Spirit, which this also might truly describe.

We all end up there, don't we ... as motherless creatures in need of a motherly and/or gentle, holy touch.

myinnerchick.com said...

**all motherless creatures will understand
why I cried**

Love your words. x

Daryl said...

beautiful and chilling .. and i wish i could believe there is a god

Anonymous said...

Agree with Hedge--this has a great fluidity and simplicity--which is a wonderful kind of craft. Very universal. Thanks. k.