Tag: religion

Tempted by Raining BMWs

Tempted by Raining BMWs

God isn’t worried about Money
Because Heaven doesn’t have a hole.
But what if someone drilled through the sun He
Put there and then stole

A stream of gold from heaven’s street.
And left the hole to show his Feat
So everyone on Earth would know
He stole a part of Heaven’s glow.

What would we do with this guy
Who’s taken our thoughts of Heaven to try
And redirect our attention to buy
Sun-beemers that fell from the sky?

We’d let him sell us all sorts of stuff
That we really don’t need anyway.
‘Cause even with more than enough,
Our Freewill would happily pay.

Mass Interruption and Tradition

I hesitate to give my son attention
But he’s tapping on my arm while we’re at Mass
I quickly think, “what type of intervention
Do I need to do to help this moment pass”.

Surprised I hear my son so softly say
Non-sensicals that slowly whisp away.
He points up to the altar while his speech
Lands in a language slightly out of reach.

My son just chose to share an explanation,
A mimicry of how I’m passing on
The beauty that’s caught up in revelation,
In tradition handed down after we’re gone.

I wonder if he knows what he is saying
As he whispers sounds of nothing in my ear
And though it’s simply one son’s way of playing
I know tradition’s setting in right here.


Jesus and Cornflakes

My son was eating cornflakes
And I took a flake or two.
This random act of playful theft,
Led contemplation through

A chain of thoughts that circumvent
My normal cornflake thinking
My thought pattern might represent
A drunkard ‘midst his drinking.

My tongue curled inside my mouth
Scraped the caverns of my bones
Starting North and heading south
To flick for food in pearly stones.

Then pressed against the molar
In the back most leftest corner
Sweeping Closest to the solar
Where Christ remains adorner

The food bits flick on out
With Creator from a crater
To the front of my closed mouth
Was my Lord I’d saved for later.

Heaven-Scent Steubenville

Undoubtedly, there’s something in the air.
The scent of which was sent to twitch your nose
Old factories there have olfactory flair
So that must be the stench, you suppose.

Now let me reveal the truth of the deal,
The stink and why we live near it.
Once you know, there’s much more appeal
Since the smell is the Holy Spirit.

Of all the scents that God perused
For His person without body
This strange new smell leaves us confused
‘till wisdom make us oddly

Okay with the stink in the morning.
With understanding, we realize
His morning breath’s adorning
Our Steubenville’s sun rise.

An Early Morning Hour

My mind’s wandering too much
I blink slowly and squinch my eyes
The air is wet upon the touch
The pew feels humid, I realize

My mind is wandering again,
Did you have something to say?
I had things on my mind when
I stopped to talk today.

Imagining Manna

I imagine bread falling from the sky.
Oh Manna, that would be awesome.
Reaching out to raining rye
As angels simply toss ‘em

Out of the giant bread boxes up there.
What if it drizzled soda bread or Naan?
Maybe sticky buns would fill the air
As humidity, until the grain was gone.

The light of the moon’s on a crescent roll
That falls down with bagels and yet
I’ll venture out for a midnight stroll,
Dodging croutons and sliced baguette.

Every time that it’s graining outside
We’d see bread putting on a show.
But what if we solely relied
On flakes of bread falling like snow.


Weathered hands held a white circle of bread,
A papery wafery piece of this world,
But there through transubstantiation was instead
The flashpoint of eternity unfurled.

This form He chose is humble and plain,
Bringing me a moment’s circumspection.
How can this qualitatively contain
The suffering, death and resurrection?


In Decisions

Sometimes we get caught in indecision,
We pray about something, but never really know
the level of correction that God’s vision
Has for us, our lives, and where we go.

We all know he’s a really smart guy since
He invented what inventors use
It’s not dumb to seek his guidance
In all those choices that we choose

But I seem to get stuck in the waiting
For answers he’s placed in my heart,
Overlooking my free will creating
The answers desires impart.


Bird Poop Rainbow

My windshield wipers smear bird poop across the window.
As if the Holy Spirit’s in the form of a Dove,
I look at this white brown and green rainbow
And start thinking ‘bout God’s covenant Love.

We want a movie with music and clean rays of light
Even though Jesus healed eyes with dirt and spit.
Although we don’t all get the gift of sight,
Don’t tell me that God doesn’t give a poop.


Spiritual Communion

I could stare at your face forever,
In the Eucharist my pleasure
See you looking back at me with love.

Your smile is upon me
This mystery can be
All that nothing I think of.

My mind is blank inside you
Though it wanders where it’s tried to
It always wanders back upon your gaze.

I’m sanctified in mystery
From complicated history
To undisputed love where Jesus Stays.

I meditate to taste of you, and feel you in my mind upon my tongue
Swallowing the grace of you, This spiritual place anew,
With songs I never knew the angels sung.