Reckless Poet

       Jump-start

 Into the soul-weary places
  He comes and he lives
  not just spends lazy time
there -- that too -- but he
   jump-starts that dusty ol'
moth-crusted engine -- he does --
   says it's not meant for rusting
and dusting away where he sits,
  says, "Let's drive!" with a fire
in his eye and a lead-laden foot
       we go flying -- Yeehaw! almost
     get me whiplash and the
   car top is down and the
wind cures my frown we go
  swerving past passengers
      squealing and feeling the
  music is high I don't care if
     we die I'm just livin'
  and lovin' my Lord and I
wonder why weariness
       can be unthrown
   by a wild reckless ride
  with my God
       to unknown.

©Ephraim Risho, May 2005

 

The Twenty-third Sheep

      I s'pose it's
  something
     like as if
    he were
         a shepherd.

      This deep
   deep longing
  in me filled
     so simply
   when he takes me
     makes me
    take my
  sheepish pride
   and take a
       pasture-break
  awaking hunger
      quickly filled --
   and thirst --
      along the safer
    sorts of streams
  in fact
   if this were him
     it would  
      restore my soul.

  And rocky paths
     would be avoided
he'd choose ones
  much more in line
    with good and right
   and not so much
      for me
           but he
  would like it
         more there
       anyway.

  And then, of course,
    even the paths of good
  go down
     beneath
         the pleasantries
      and suddenly
     we're in death's
         shadow
       wondering
         waiting
       yet
         not fearing
    for with shepherd
   there that longish
     stick he
         whacks around
      well here
        it's sort of
           comforting.

  In fact
     when enemies
    attack
        my tendency
       to find a crack
          to bolt  
       to bleat
    to flee the beast
      instead he cooks
        for me a feast!

  Delicious food!
    A bounteous gift!
  Right in the face
      of death
    there's grace.

  A glass of wine
     that overflows
    and goodness
     seeping
        to the toes!

  This outright love
    I'll never shake it --
   always free
     it follows me
    around the globe
      not only once
       but every-
          single-
      day-to-day-
         Today!
       Hooray!
   I seriously think
     I'll hang out
              here
            forever!

©Ephraim Risho, May 2005

 

Whatever

Whatever
is the word
that bears the questions,
holds the weight
my empty hands can bear
it offers grace on sidewalks'
barren clutter where
no wonder
I can go astray
so easily
I thunder
what's the meaning
and I rest
in God's
whatever.

©Ephraim Risho, May 2005