Friday, March 18, 2011

Prezzato

Meant to be prezzato,
But now a mere fiasco,
Demoted by your flaws.
Your imperfections,
Too prominent to overlook.
Moses could not enter a Promised Land.
David could not build a temple.
Unclean hands or even an unclean heart
Cannot leave a gift upon my table.
So leave, and return when you are ready
To present yourself as a living sacrifice,
Holy and acceptable.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Your Purse


Your purse is quite large indeed.
The treasures in your chest are endless,
Without borders, without bottom,
And unrestrained by circumstance.

Everything you touch is turned to gold.
In your hand, the discarded become most precious,
And those hurting are made whole;
Even the dead return to life again;
All because you share the love you have within.

Overwhelming is your gelt.
In your presence, million year old glaciers melt.
The fire in your bosom has the warmth of a thousand suns.
One who is blessed to know you has a wealthy man’s fortunes.
The riches in your heart, you do not store,
But as a fountainhead, you continually pour
Out rivers of living water to quench every thirsty soul.

Feed the Hungry

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