If His Were the Only Tree (poem)

in the Garden
if they must forthwith still
taste of some tree
in search

of knowledge of

good
and evil, then let
them eat of my Son

the Fruit of the tree of Jesse
from whom He depends, ever
for their desire

because

He let Himself be hung there
as if out to dry
so that they
might later partake
of His dehydrated body
and
His unleavened blood
so as to have

the Knowledge

of Whom
it thenceforth hath been said
He is

the Apple of His Father's eye

by Carl Winderl

An Introduction to, and "Straddling" Itself (poem)

This past weekend, I was grateful to have the chance to visit Earlham School of Religion in Richmond, Indiana. I was there for several reasons: to check out the school, which offers a program in writing and ministry, to participate in ESR's annual Writer's Colloquium, which this year featured the inspiring Quaker singer/songwriter Carrie Newcomer, and to see my friend Dylan. Dylan, whom I've known since high school, is a student at Bethany Seminary, ESR's sister school.

During the last session of the writer's colloquium, we read the poem "Possibilities" by Wislawa Szymborska, and were asked to write a poem modeled after Szymborska's. Here's mine.


"Straddling"

I prefer the first glance of the glory of God in the East.
I prefer cereal to oatmeal.
I prefer FOODLAND.
I prefer a whiskey sky.
I prefer offbeat picking with the rare strum.
I prefer whistling and humming, both.
I prefer waiting worship.
I prefer singing into or out of silence.
I prefer sleeping on Dylan's couch, and the couch in the Indianapolis International Airport, and the couch in the Redemption House.
I prefer wearing my scarf on a special occasion, such as being stranded again.
I prefer writing a daydream.
I prefer the kitchen.
I prefer being baptized in Mission Bay by Pastors Steve and Preston.
I prefer not singing, sometimes, when others are singing.
I prefer harmonizing, although when singing hymns I usually sing melody.
I prefer being alone.
I prefer being with people.
I prefer being alone with people.
I prefer being with everyone when alone or when with people.
I prefer onions.

For I will consider Smart's Cat Jeoffry. (song)

Last Friday, during youth group, one of the youths asked a question about what heaven will be like for animals such as cats or dogs. Although we couldn't answer him for sure, Brian shared what he's been learning about how God created each animal to worship God in its own way. For instance, while a bird is singing or soaring or eating worms, it is worshiping God because it is being what God created it to be.

That reminded me of a song I sang freshman year with PLNU's Choral Union. The song, "Rejoice in the Lamb" by Benjamin Britten, is based on a long free verse poem by 18th-century poet Christopher Smart called "Jubilante Agno." In the poem, Smart describes how his cat Jeoffry worships God as the sun rises:

"For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness."

I remember Dr. Pedersen quoting those lines to the Choral Union, saying that by being a cat, with all of his movements, Jeoffry worshiped God, and Jeoffry's owner was making a theological statement about how we worship God: we worship as we are who we were created to be.

That raises more questions, like "Who were we created to be?" and "What are our worshipful 'movements' as God's creations?" Perhaps one way we can explore these questions is by considering the last chapter of 1 Chronicles. King David and all the leaders of the Israelites have just given to the Lord their gold, silver, bronze, turquoise, and other rich resources for the construction of the temple. Then, in verse 16, King David prays, "O LORD our God, as for all this abundance that we have provided for building you a temple for your Holy Name, it comes from your hand, and all of it belongs to you." King David recognizes that all of who we are, all that we own and have, comes from God, and belongs to God. Indeed, the whole heavens and earth belong to God, for he created them.

I wonder if we become closer to who we were created to be, and if we worship God when we realize that we--with all our dreams and memories and thoughts and words and strength and resources and everything else about us--come from God, and that we belong to God. The things we do during our day, like going to school or work or resting or laughing or weeping, we do because God has given us our job or the gift of going to school or the time to rest or the capacity to understand humor and feel emotion. And we worship God when we give to him all of the wonder and pain that come with those experiences, turning them into prayers.

As I consider Smart's cat Jeoffry, and how he worships God when the sun rises through the movements of his body, I ask myself, how can I too worship God? Like Jeoffry, I desire to worship God, giving him all that he has given me and created me to be, and recognizing that I and all the things inside of me and attached to me belong to him.

By Putah Creek, (poem)

the moon got stuck in spades of light
swooning from the branches of oaks
like mustard seeds dancing in my hair.
We waltzed the glow around a rope,
which Jeff flicked on the elbow with a blade,
and made spin up like a dandelion,
a cup, a flare of cotton firework--
all this work before a wedding;
all the butterflies must be sleeping.

Bachelor Party in Two Buttes (poem)

I waded in the lagoon beneath the rocky overlooks,
watching him convince himself to jump, and then not to jump.
"Try it from 30 feet!" said the bachelors from the bank.
"There aren't any rocks!"
"We really gotta go!"

A cottonwood seed washed up on my eye,
and as I doggie paddled away from where he would have splashed (or crashed),
the glassy lake rippled with furry stars,
quivering like crickets, colliding like the songs of crickets.