Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Après la répétition

Here's my first French poem, written after listening to a cellist friend rehearsing Brahms with a pianist.

Leurs notes me portent sur un lit de lumière
Sillonnant les couloirs du métro de Paris
Environné de la foule pressée
Mon cœur est paisiblement assis dans le fauteuil,
Buvant à la source intarissable de Vie
qui demeure dans les profondeurs de ces artistes.
Riche de textures, Elle sort en courbes des
Cordes vibrantes, rejoignant mon âme
qui l’accueille comme une terre desséchée

Baignée par ces ondes
je retrouve un souffle qui remplit
non seulement mes poumons mais tout mon être

Trop rapidement, l’appel lointain de mon quotidien 
m’oblige à quitter le fauteuil
Mais, désaltérée à cette oasis musicale,
Je rentre dans la précipitation du monde changée,
Animée par l’Esprit qui dansait habilement 
dans les mains des musiciennes,
Accompagnée par la Lumière bienfaisante 
qui demeure dans chacun de nos cœurs
Dans cette amitié qui va en crescendo 

Paris, France
11 octobre 2019



Image from the game "Dixit"

Monday, February 24, 2020

The Art of Skipping Stones


Where the glassy surface reflects the sky,
they hear the call
Echoing through the ages
and amplified by chiseled cliffs,
it catches their hearts, and,
compelled by some force of joy stronger than them,
they stoop to gather the flattest stones

Unknowingly, they join in a dance
passed from one generation to the next the world over,
choreographed with precision by the
very first father who happened upon a
serene stream with son by his side

Poised parallel to the earth,
stone cradled snugly between thumb and forefinger,
his arm winds back and, with a burst,
he lets it fly –

One – two – three – four –
it ricochets across the watery mirror
like the feet of a chickadee
tripping across a field fresh with snow

A sheen of admiration in their eyes,
his sons add their own ripples to the stream,
emulating and transposing their father’s gestures
to make his dance their own,
sunning themselves in the rays of approval
flowing from his lips and grin

In the glistening light, they dance on,
each boy striving to surpass himself and his brothers
in his climb toward manhood

Their father knows well this ladder’s rungs
and, while each stone he flings points them toward the top,
his love shows them they are already enough

Safe to dare and free to fail,
young boys become men on the riverbank,
hearts rebounding
as they stand beloved,
apprentices in the art of skipping stones


Rennes, France
February 23, 2020
(inspired by a scene on the banks of the Ardèche in Labeaume on February 20)

Sunday, February 23, 2020

To See Anew / Un nouveau regard


In this day
15 billion eyes will open
Awakened by possibility, necessity,
       rhythms of biology

Bleary with the haze of unmet expectations
Scanning the horizon for a glimmer of light
Ablaze with the wonder of new discovery
Scintillating with the hope of what could be
Resigned to live in a world not chosen
Darting to look away from all that hurts
Weary from the weight of yesterdays stealing
       hope from tomorrows
Longing to close again into uninterrupted sleep

Tear-filled with grief or dry with sleeplessness,
Dilated with fear or misty with love –

15 billion eyes awaken to a new day
Their stories, as varied as fingerprints,
       held in the embrace of the unseen All-Seeing One
       who calls himself Father

With tenderness and infinite creativity, he invites
7.5 billion souls to come as children –
       To exchange near-sightedness
              for eternal vision and
       the swirl of sorrow and fear
              for understanding-surpassing peace –
       To lay down striving to take up rest,
              longings satisfied by the Giver of all good things

On the eyes of all who come, he spreads
       Love like a balm
Inviting them to wash at the river of life
       to regain not their sight but his –
New eyes to see this world and the world to come

Kept as the apple of his eye
Enlivened by the wonder of a love so great
Safe in our Father’s gaze
We shall see anew

Rennes, France
February 10, 2020


Photos by Young Suk Kum Frondo and Xavier Lespinas

A poem written for morning worship at the 2020 Agapé France National Staff Conference, where the theme was Christian Worldview.


Version en français :

Un nouveau regard

En ce jour
15 milliards d’yeux vont s’ouvrir
Éveillés par la possibilité, la nécessité,
l’horloge biologique

Perdus dans le brouillard des attentes inassouvies
Scrutant l’horizon pour la moindre lueur
Rayonnant de l’émerveillement de découvertes nouvelles
Scintillant de l’espoir de ce qui pourrait être
Résignés à vivre dans un monde non choisi
Détournant le regard pour éviter tout ce qui pourrait blesser
Lassés du fardeau d’hier qui vole l’espoir de demain
N’attendant que de sombrer à nouveau dans un sommeil ininterrompu

Emplis des larmes du deuil ou secs de l’insomnie
Dilatés par la peur ou brillant d’amour –

15 milliards d’yeux s’éveillent au jour nouveau
Leurs histoires, aussi variées que leurs empreintes,
tenues dans l’étreinte du Dieu invisible qui voit tout –  
Celui qui se nomme Père

Avec tendresse et une créativité infinie, il invite
7,5 milliards d’âmes à venir comme des enfants –
À échanger leur myopie
contre une vision d’éternité et
le tourbillon des chagrins et des peurs
contre une paix qui surpasse toute intelligence –
            À cesser les luttes pour accueillir le repos,
                        désirs comblés par Lui,
la Source d’où provient toute chose bonne

Sur les yeux de tous ceux qui s’approchent, il répand
            l’Amour comme un baume
Les invitant à se laver à la rivière de vie
pour recouvrer non pas leur vue mais la sienne –
Des yeux nouveaux pour voir notre monde et celui qui vient

Gardés comme la prunelle de ses yeux
Vivifiés par la merveille d’un amour si grand
En sécurité dans le regard de notre Père
Enfin nous verrons

Thursday, February 13, 2020

Cocoon


I emerge slowly
Never the master of those first thoughts
hovering precariously between the waking world and dreamland

As blinds roll up, the light spills in
setting in motion the dance of Morning –
the daily steps well-known but never quite the same

Blankets thrown back haphazardly form a cocoon of sorts
And sliding my hand underneath, I find it still
filled with the sweet warmth of slumber

I long to crawl back in, curling once again into the
safety of surrender
But the winds of the day call me to fly
unfurling folded wings to scatter life and joy as best I can
Climbing the breeze with the help of an unseen Spirit

Perhaps I may carry this cocoon in my heart
Returning there time and again when I pause on a flower
to catch the warmth of the sun on my wings
Knowing those rays flow from the same Sun
            who restores me as I sleep


Rennes, France
January 24, 2020


Psalm 84:11 “For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the LORD bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly.”

Top Photo by NON on Unsplash

Sunday, February 9, 2020

Blue Sky Day

Today is a blue sky day.
My heart is always lighter when the gray veil is peeled back,
revealing an inky expanse inhabited by a cheery orb
whose dimming signals the end of night
Ink fades to ice-eye-blue as Earth turns imperceptibly beneath me
And seagulls call, far from shore
The city awakens with me inside
But some corner of my heart
            wiggles its toes in the warm sand
As waves beat time on the coast of eternity

Rennes, France
October 15, 2019



Photos taken in Corsica
April 2019

Thursday, February 6, 2020

A Songbird's Declaration



Why does she sing with no one near to hear?
A melody that wells from deep within
Amidst dark branches from her perch she peers
Upon the slumbering earth fore day begins

While others lie in dreams her notes ring out
The shadows ’round her have no pow’r to fright
There’s something in her song to scatter doubt
And chase away the darkness of the night

She does not need to see the light to know
The One who gave her life is coming soon
A new day’s dawning on the earth below
Fore’er she’ll sing him praises with her tune

Within her downy breast she’s made her choice
As long as she has breath, she’ll use her voice

January 31, 2020
Rennes, France
My first sonnet, inspired by a bird singing at 6 am while driving a friend to the airport

Photo by Michel Catalisano on Unsplash