Archive for April, 2009
April 30, 2009 at 9:28 am · Filed under Poetry
Like bent plus signs
or odd tri-tined forks
traced an almost Brownian path
across the fine silt
lining the bottom of an oblong puddle
in the driveway after an April rain.
I stopped and knelt down on one knee
to gaze at the inscription
and saw my own bowed face
and the sky above reflecting
in the mirrory surface.
Reaching out my hand,
I drew a cross
next to the bird’s tracks
and lifted moist fingers
to my forehead, heart, and shoulders,
saying,
“In the name of the Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
David M. Frye
April 30, 2009
Denton, Neb.
April 30, 2009 at 5:59 am · Filed under Daily Words
“O Lord, you have been our refuge
from one generation to the next.” (Psalm 90:1, LH)
April 29, 2009 at 6:35 am · Filed under Poetry
The canard asserts:
We fear change.
Yet we crave, we seek
novelty and the next thing.
This is the fuel that powers
the engine of pop culture.
So change per se does not
frighten us. It enthralls us.
We like some change.
We have a taste, an appetite
for it. We consume it.
We desire the change
we can control, we can master.
But the change threatening
to master us, to consume us,
to kill us–this we fear.
So let’s rewrite the canard.
We fear uncontrollable change.
We fear unbound change.
We fear unlimited change.
We fear sovereign change.
We fear God.
But fear is the absence of faith.
So our canard becomes our cry.
We fear because we do not believe,
because we do not have trust,
because we fall short in faith.
But we do not live without hope.
The God whom we fear
has faced and faced down
the consuming, killing change,
the ending of life in death.
In raising his Son from death
by the power of their Spirit,
the Father masters the fearsome change
and then shares with us
the faith that casts out our fear.
So let’s rewrite the canard.
We do not fear change.
We do not fear death.
We do not fear God.
We have faith in God.
We trust God.
Or, as the penny reminds us
when we bend down to retrieve it
from the dust on the street,
“In God we trust.”
David M. Frye
April 29, 2009
Denton, Neb.
April 29, 2009 at 5:36 am · Filed under Daily Words
“Let the words of my mouth
and the meditation of my heart
be acceptable in your sight,
O Lord, my strength and my redeemer.” (Psalm 19:4, BCP)
April 28, 2009 at 9:10 am · Filed under Poetry
The patterns of the form
constellate my arms and legs,
creating Crane Spreads Wings,
Cloud Hands, and Ride the Tiger
from soothingly flowing glides
of steps and waves and turns.
Breathe gently, gaze calmly,
listen for the echoes of memory,
smooth the moves and flow
like a mountain stream
over rocks worn round by soft waters.
There’s no rush to reach the sea.
Like Sirius and Polaris,
brilliant scintillations in night’s black,
T’ai Chi shines serenely
on a calm canvas of breath and earth.
The interstitial emptiness inspires life
in constellations of stars and flesh.
David M. Frye
April 28, 2009
Denton, Neb.
April 28, 2009 at 6:05 am · Filed under Daily Words
“From the angel’s hand the smoke of the incense went up before God, and with it the prayers of God’s people.” (Revelation 8:4, LH)
April 27, 2009 at 8:14 pm · Filed under Poetry
A lidless cardboard cigar box
and a fistful of rubber bands
became a homemade guitar
when I wrapped the open box
in one rubber band, then another.
The craftsmanship and skill came
in arranging the rubber bands
in just the right order of width
and tension for plucking a scale
without crushing the open box.
Life is like a banded box.
With the right array of tension
in the fitting places, plucked
in the opportune moments,
music of a sort breaks the silence.
One rubber band too many, wrapped too tight,
and the cigar box caves and is crushed.
David M. Frye
April 27, 2009
Denton, Neb.
April 27, 2009 at 9:40 am · Filed under Daily Words
“They cried out in a loud voice, ‘Salvation is from our God, who is seated on the throne, and from the Lamb!’” (Revelation 7:10, LH)
April 26, 2009 at 7:23 am · Filed under Poetry
The tiller’s steel teeth
bit into the soil,
chewing across the garden in rows
like teeth biting off kernels
on a buttery cob
or like the steel bits
of an old Smith-Corona
typing letters in neat rows
across a blank page.
What is it about us,
or perhaps about our tools,
that we impose ranks
and rows and lines
upon a world of curves
and bends and twists?
The greater beauty,
the better part of artistry,
lies in Fibonacci’s natural swirls
and not in our grids of efficiency.
Find the page with no lines
and write a letter longhand.
Eat corn recklessly
and leave scattered kernels.
Dig holes at random
and plant seeds of mystery.
Then wait and watch
and enjoy the surprise.
David M. Frye
April 26, 2009
Denton, Neb.
April 26, 2009 at 6:47 am · Filed under Daily Words
“The stars in the sky fell crashing to earth like figs shaken loose by a mighty wind.” (Revelation 6:13, LH)
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