Long Island visit draft no. 6 4/20/26

 

Tithe Poem 3/29/26 draft no. 3

 “Donkey Sunday” sermon by Dan Jackson

By Jen Hunt

 

Secure in his man and Godhood

He rode into Jerusalem

A poetic and prophetic way,

On a tricycle, not a tank

 

He’s not hiding it any longer

He’s a king of a different sort

Some hitch their hopes to his title

Some reject the very thought

 

He entered humble, like a child,

But as he stepped into the ring

He sent Walmart tables flying

Proof that more than anything

 

God craved space for us

to talk with him

 

In the cleared courtyard

Will we kneel

Or thumb our noses

Becomes the choice

We’re now pos-ed

 

Secure in his God and manhood

He humbled himself on the cross

To show the way to God

To all of us who are lost.

Tithe Poem 3/22/26, draft no. 2, by Jen Hunt

What are you hiding from me, God?

Why the cleft rock? Why your backside only?

The trauma of the world leads me

To fear the hidden parts of you--

Fear that perhaps there’s a sliver of a cuff of you

That’s vile.

My guilt suspects you of evil,

Yet my guilt is the reason

I must be shielded from your glory,

Lest I perish.

I repent of my fear

And welcome your hand that covers me--

As Jesus’ death has done--

And sets me in this rock to see as much of your glory as I can take--

A glory that forgives my guilt and in forgiving becomes

More glorious still.

Basking in Your compassion and grace, 

I will live in your presence

Pardoned by Jesus’ death in my place

Now, from this crevice

Soon, face to face.

 

Based on Ligon Duncan’s sermon on Exodus 34:5-8

Prayer to the Just Judge, (Luke 18) by Jen Hunt, draft no. 2

Lord, I want to write a poem for my friend

Who lost her son this week

Where one grief has ended, another has

Begun. All the what ifs have turned to if onlys,

The knock of the sheriff, so often feared, came at last.

There will be no more wondering when

The knock will come--

There will be no more despair when

Relapse returns--

The beating on Your chest, feels just as strong,

If less desperate--

Prepare her for this unwanted space

From fearing one child’s death to losing another

With a beautiful trauma between--

Will the Lord’s waves keep crashing?

You appear to be sleeping--

Don’t you care?

Shout, “Peace be Still”! Send your angels!

Anything to lift her from this living hell

Or, at least, lengthen

Her rope so she can draw

from a deeper well.

Show up for her now like You do best,

Is my poem’s sole request.

On the loss of Ellen's adult son, Drew. (Ellen is my spiritual director).

For Dad and Jill (after dad’s ER visit 3.7.26)

 

Praying your recent scare

Gives way to days free of care

Gardening, strolls, chats on the porch

Sweet nothings and so forth.

Third of a Century poem, February 13, Princess Love Boat cruise, draft no. 1

by Jen Hunt

For Graham:

Sometimes you're too much in your head

And you hog too much of the bed

But I am grateful for your sense of direction. 

And that after 33 years

You can still keep an erection. 

We renewed our vows on Feb 14, 2026 during our first cruise, Sun Princess (Love Boat) 

Communion, draft no. 1

 by Jen Hunt

I pinch the cup to hold communion

The Most Holy God and I kiss

My pulse faint as a preborn's heartbeat

moving the crepe paper skin of my wrist

To think my Lord bled

For this