The 60-Second Sabbath

A Door

I am a door
that must open.

I fear what waits
on the other side.

Shut,
I shall not transform;
I shall not transcend;
I shall not live.

I must open to release
    years of unresolved memories.

I must open to let out
    the stress clawing my neck and back.

I must open to bid adieu to
    childhood's haunting shame.

I must open to escort to the porch steps
    the demons who would hide forever
    in the closet beneath the stairs.

I must open to welcome grace in,
grace that sweeps like Pentecost wind
    across the threshold and down the hall
    fresh air and fire light,
    acceptance and knowing.

I am a door
that must open.

Text and image © 2015 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

The Wonder-Filled Life

The spiritual life
is lived in wonder.

Faith calls us to amazement,
to awe:

    waves pound;
    babies burble;
    cicadas buzz;
    ferns unfurl;

    hearts crack;
    wounds heal;
    truth wins;
    love endures.

Open,
you,
to the worshipful wow.

Text and image © 2015 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Slipping Off Center

Another day,
another meeting,
more ballyhoo and hullabaloo,
fuss and flapdoodle,
bobbery, bother and blather,
more hoo-ha and foofaraw,
alarums and excursions,
coil and kerfuffle,
Sturm und Drang,
whelter and whirl...

And then it ends.
I sit in silence,
look out at the snow
    gently falling on the city,
breathe deeply
and return to the reality
of stillness.

We so easily slip
off center.

Text and image © 2015 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

In what ways, today,
will you increase your awareness
that you are God's beloved?

By reading this,
you have.

And you might

slow down    sing    sit    keep silence
walk    open    hold hands    absorb
listen    meditate    stretch    observe
release    breathe    read    love
be

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

 

Thanksgiving Toast

May we be grateful for
    the stuff we've got,
but also for
    the stuff we've not.
                                    Amen.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Scent Enabled

Stop and smell the roses...
but don't stop with roses:
    smell the coffee brewing;
    smell the laundry, fresh from the dryer;
        bury your face in it;
    smell the newly mowed grass;
    smell the steaming blacktop, just smoothed;
    smell your spouse's neck;
        prolong the hug; savor the scent.

Stop to smell:
    the back of your hand
        when you've been in the sun,
    the new book,
    the sliced lemon,
    the smoke of an unseen cigarette,
    the newly opened bar of soap,
    the soggy river bank,
    the roasting chilies,
    the infant's breath,
    the child's sweat...

Your day, today,
will have a unique scent-track,
yours alone.
Slow down enough
to breathe it in.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Surgery

As my sister's
    surgery starts,
guide the hands
    and still the hearts,

calm the nerves
    and dry the tears,
give us patience,
    ease our fears.

All scenarios
    we have found
lead us on
    to sacred ground,

God's scarred hands
    and God's embrace,
God's compassion,
    God's soft grace.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

Because Things Do

Things fall apart
    then reassemble.
Life unravels
    then weaves back together.
The water overwhelms
    then recedes.

This is always the pattern;
    we've lived it 1,000 times,
    survived it 1,000 times.

Yet always
    between the disaster
    and the recovery,
    between the spill
    and the cleanup
is a point of despair,
    of "It will always be this way"
    and "What's the point?"
rarely "This too shall pass...
    like all others have passed."

This too shall pass
    because things do.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

 

Photography 10

I finally understand.

I photograph
stillness.

And when I do,
I receive
stillness.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.

The Color of God, 1

What color is God?

God is warm, earth tones
    yellows, oranges, browns
the color of nurture
    birds nests and polished oak dining tables
sun-tanned hands that reach, hold, lift
    an open doorway on a snowy night
golden light spilling onto the porch
    candlelight
freshly baked crusty bread
    a calico cat curled on a couch.

God is the color of solid ground
    stones, sticks and stillness.

Text and image © 2014 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.