I am not
You (s) are not
He, she, it is not
We are not
You (pl) are not
They are not
The I Am Who I Am.
Exotic Fruit for the Poetic Soul
I am not
You (s) are not
He, she, it is not
We are not
You (pl) are not
They are not
The I Am Who I Am.
Pastors deal with lots of guff,
Rants and rage and tedious stuff.
Saturdays are all awash,
Scanning o’er the week’s midrash.
Yet somehow you don’t seem to mind,
Your manner stays cheerful and kind.
There’s but one way this could be true:
Because you trust that God’s got you.
I thank God* for the work you do,
I know that it will bear much fruit.
Pastoring’s not easy, even with gifting,
Praying you let the Spirit do the heavy lifting.
*Pastor Dan preached on how one should thank God and not
people once. See? Some were listening.
For Laurn, draft
no. 3
Friend since high – nay, middle--nay,
elementary days
Who’s near at heart though miles away
Lover of cats, crafts, and secret potions.
Eloquent, sharp, a wee bit coven.
The woman you’d want on the scene,
If you'd caught salmonella or COVID-19.
Laurn Mank has stood the test--
Wishing her peace, and joy, and all
that’s best.
I made him scrambled eggs
After we had fought;
It feels good to be reconciled
Just as Jesus taught.
I could have just stayed angry
and burned the time away--
I'm learning to stay better
and love him, come what may.
The crystal-dolloped leaves
The velvet-wrinkled moss
The silken, swaying pom poms
With every whisper toss’d
Nature in her glory
Every glade aglow
This is what we’re made for--
Savoring God's work slow