Tag Archives: Faith
Sunday at Maria’s
This one is for Patricia Fiske and all the fans of Maria’s and the Austin Hippie Church
FAITH IN THE AFTERLIFE
FAITH IN THE AFTERLIFE
Burial suit
with two pairs of pants
A CAUTION AGAINST TOO MUCH CHURCH TOO SOON
A CAUTION AGAINST TOO MUCH CHURCH TOO SOON
Brother Wally at age three or four
sitting on the tracks as the train approaches
wanting to find out what it’s like to be an angel
The last minute rescue
granting him some fame and slack
when he went back to being
the little devil he had been the day before
PEOPLE OF THE EARTH
PEOPLE OF THE EARTH
People of the earth
kneeling in their gardens
all directions Mecca
HOW I LOST MY FAITH
HOW I LOST MY FAITH
the first time
It was a cold and muddy Sunday
Our little caravan of Christians
children, parents and student minister
stuck in the spring mud
a mile from church
Me and city cousin Wayne
the chosen ones at age seven
chosen to walk
to the nearest neighbour
while the others wait in the cars
The neighbor’s not home
but his Cockshutt 40 tractor is
Some combination of farm boy bravado
and reluctance to slog
back to the cars in defeat
comes out as I can drive a tractor!
One foot each on the clutch
and a good deal of grinding
gets us into low gear
and off at about two miles per
The student minister meets us
two thirds of the way back
As our leader
in all things spiritual
and practical
he decrees that we are going
far too slow
and selects another gear
(probably at random, he’s from the city too)
The one he picks is the fastest
known in these parts as “Road Gear”
and we quickly accelerate to thirty
which causes the preacher to panic
(or remember that he forgot his bible)
and leap off
leaving us to wrestle the big red monster
now wildly careening from rut to rut
and rocketing toward the mired cars
and fearful families
Wrenching the wheel
to the right
at the last possible moment
we narrowly avoid death and destruction
and come to rest
in the water filled ditch
amidst the prayers of the congregation
MARX AND GOD IN NEW ORLEANS
MARX AND GOD IN NEW ORLEANS
The people of New Orleans are still singing
If religion is indeed the opiate of the people
seldom was it more needed and more used
than last September down in New Orleans
And yet strangely and much I suspect
to the relief of the administration
the God of the people of New Orleans
is not a God of revenge
The God of the people of New Orleans
is a God of mysterious intent
not blamed for those who die
but praised by those who live
Theirs is the God that rocks you to sleep
in the belly of the slave ship
surrounded by water
The God that rocks you to sleep
in the hold of the Superdome
surrounded by water
A KINDER GENTLER GOD
A KINDER GENTLER GOD
As we look around the world today we see
with God as our father in trouble all are we
Fathers as you know, often have a tendency
towards discipline, judgement and wrath
while grandparents almost always
take a wiser, gentler path
There may be much to learn
as we choose, or create our deity
from the Blackfoot, Sioux and Cree
who still gather at Grandfather’s knee
APRIL 2ND 2005
APRIL 2ND 2005
The pope died today
I heard about it on the radio
on the way to the Bahai reading
The pope died today and the pope was a poet
I know because I have one of his books
Anyway, the pope died today
and the pope was a poet
He was a good and a wise man too
who apologized to the Gypsy and the Jew
But I know he would
because the pope was a poet
And he was working yet
to get the big banks to forgive
the third world’s crippling debt
But that was no surprise
because the pope was a poet
And now as cardinals
in solemn gaggles gather
to spread portfolios for a look
I hope they look for a poetry book
EAGLE BONE WHISTLE
EAGLE BONE WHISTLE
Chain breathing with the Sioux
at a South Dakota sun dance
Praying that I might become
more perfectly hollow
That thy music may play
more beautifully through me