Fire
Simon Fenton
Love makes the sacrifice
Will Keillor
from the dark of the earth
the tree drew up life
cut and cast on the fire
it will light up the night
and here is the fire
and here is the knife
but what is required for the sacrifice
Love makes the sacrifice
love will not harm you
love is the holy one
with strong arms around you
love does not turn away
will not misuse you
though you’re lost in the darkness
love will pursue you
justice is a hard path, who can walk it
if peace is a language, who can talk it
if faith is a substance, can you receive it
if hope is a promise, would you believe it
the tempter offered countries, cities, and towns
at the price of the holy one bowing down
but Christ said I prepare a place where I go
where the law is gladness and eternal life flows
on this mortal earth injustice, death spring ever new
forgive us Lord when we know not what to do
here is the fire
and here is the knife
but what is required for the sacrifice
Christ makes the sacrifice…
Souls On Fire
Ellen Jensen
This poem I wrote as I prayed through the night for our city:
Fire has come to the city
We hunker in our square boxes
as sirens split atoms, clouds hemorrhage smoke
The twelfth hour descends on the town
While fiery shadows make a bronze night sun
Our Fears, ruthless as lions, rip us apart in Chaos unleashed
After the endless night, the lone song of a bird carries the wind
St Joan saw the Lord Christ in the flames, crying out,
“Blessed Jesus!”*
God of Fire, Water, Sky.
Earth
Send your Saving Fire to us
The fire which purifies
The inferno that ignites our cold and darkened hearts
The one Flame that transforms our words to the ineffable
How shall I bear such pain as you hold the white coals
to my trembling lips?
Slay me with your Glory
Pierce me with your daggers
Collect my joyful tears in your vials of mercy
I will be weak as steely flint; strong as fields of poppies
I will praise your goodness deep as sapphire
Your sure love as infinite blue above!
Your peace, like the halcyon breeze upon my cheek—
Shall ever be a kiss
* How interesting that May 30 is the feast Day of Joan of Arc, who met her Savior in the Fire on May 30, 1431
Jesus our King
Aravis Bramsen
Morning
Elanor Bramsen
Body, Blood
Molly Riley
We lived a week, months,a whole history that slips away from tidy, adequate, resolving adjectives.
We look for nouns for now
and ask their help as we hold the tension.
We take them in our hands and place them on our tongues:
breath, death
gash, gangrene
justice, peace
anguish, glass
plowshare, seed
siren, brother
George, fire
Fire
Tim G
The Story of Mona
Caleb Molstad
In medieval romances Whitsunday, or Pentecost, is an especially important day. On it one could expect news of marvelous happenings to arrive at King Arthur’s court and knights to set out on unexpected adventures. The most famous quest, the quest for the Holy Grail, began at the feast of Pentecost when Galahad sat in the Siege Perilous at the Round Table. In keeping with that tradition, I’m sharing a story of the marvelous that I wrote sometime ago and lately revised. It is written as a children’s story, though whether it is a story for children is something I’ll leave to the reader (and parents) to decide.
On a quiet country farm lived a girl named Mona. Her life on the farm was almost as ordinary as could be. Everyday, at first light, she got up and led the geese down to the pond. Then she had to milk the goat and carry the bucket to her aunt for making butter. Next the chickens’ eggs needed to be collected and breakfast eaten. Mona worked all morning for her aunt. After lunch, it was time to take her uncle’s sheep to the pasture. She watched them all afternoon until the lazy sun sank in the sky. Then all the sheep must be brought back to the farm. The geese too needed to be led home from the pond before it was dark. Only after all this was done could she eat a simple supper and crawl into bed.
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