Donal Mahoney- A Poem

Find Him

Millie on crutches 

in the day room 

tells Fred on 

his walker

to find him. 

It's important

says Millie

even if you're old

and can't walk.

Hire someone 

to push your 

wheelchair 

toward him.

If you can't 

get out of bed,

hire two people 

to wheel 

your gurney

toward him.

It's too late 

if you hire 

ten men to

carry your coffin 

toward him.

Now is the time,

and for many 

that's a problem.

They have 

too little time 

to find him.

 

Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.

Heather M. Browne- Two Poems

           

Let Me Press

I fall

rocks pressed

into knees - embedded

I pick & flick

dirt scrubbed – imprint rubbed

out

I trip

against my will

stumbling

over my chosen sin

against you

Not wanting to fall

onto my knees

Knees - imprinted - embedded

from the ground

Help me want your mark

remember this pain - debris

Dirty

I look up

to you -  arms outstretched waiting

Raise me, Lord

from my soles

to stand  - waiting for your rain

to wash

Let me press

my palms

upon your hands

open

hanging from my nails

in you

driven in

Imprint me

Let me scar

"For dust you are and to dust you shall return" (Genesis 3:19)

I come and kneel to you God

Your altar before me

Sacrificing my sin for you

I drop - splay out my palms

fingers open - wide like fronds

I wait for the burn of yours

trees of provision - fruit of life

Now burning

You give and you take away

You gave and I took me away

from you

As the flame separates and breaks down

So do I, when I separate from you

I break and fall

onto my knees Lord, asking for forgiveness

Let me wear your cross

singed of life

over my mind which forgets and ignores

The fruit of sin is death - both mine

I come to you Lord

burnt and broken, dust and ash

once again nothing without you

Raise me Lord out of this flame

purify me in you

I am here and ready

Heather M. Browne is a faith-based psychotherapist and recently emerged poet, published in the Orange Room, Boston Literary Review, Page & Spine, Eunoia Review, Poetry Quarterly, Red Fez, , Electric Windmill, mad swirl. MCI just published her chapbook, We Look for Magic and Feed the Hungry.

Follow her: www.thehealedheart.net

Thomas Piekarski- A Poem

           Santa Rosalia                                   

                                                                      

Santa Rosalia, patron saint                       

of Monterey, her bronze statue                  

peers out over a pure azure Pacific.

Cross and bible in hand

she guides ships near and far.

 

She’s an Italian Christian

from the Dark Ages, obscure

to all but knowledgeable hearts.

 

But she’s plenty ambulant,

in fact transubstantiational

to the degree of directing

with deliberate lassitude

unsuspecting mariners

through thick and thin.

Thomas Piekarski is a former editor of the California State Poetry Quarterly. His poetry and interviews have appeared in Nimrod, Portland Review, Kestrel, Cream City Review, Poetry Salzburg, Boston Poetry Magazine, Gertrude, The Bacon Review, and many others.  He has published a travel guide, Best Choices In Northern California, and Time Lines, a book of poems. He lives in Marina, California.

Jane Blanchard- Three Poems

Epiphany

Back in the day I did believe
Lord Jesus once took sin away,
But now I know I was naive
Back in the day.

For still I err, to my dismay,
And Christ must grant me new reprieve
Each time I yield to Satan’s sway.

Not on this earth will I achieve
A life that does not go astray,
A concept I could not conceive
Back in the day.




Untitled

all is vanity
under the sun or elsewhere
make peace with pleasure




Noël

Welcome, small one, grandchild of mine!
May all you are and do on earth
Remind you of the great design
That brought about your day of birth.

May you grow strong and wise and fine;
May work and play and rest give mirth;
May sun and moon upon you shine;
May you trust God for faith and worth.




Jane Blanchard studied English at Wake Forest before earning a doctorate from Rutgers. She currently divides her time between Augusta and Saint Simon’s Island, Georgia. Her work has appeared previously in Calvary Cross and recently in Belle Reve, Concho River Review, Mezzo Cammin, and Penwood Review.

Donal Mahoney- A Poem

 

Monks in the Orchard Picking Peaches

Young monk 

and old monk

in the orchard

picking peaches,

sunny and plump,

ready for canning.

Carrying bushels

to the wagon cart,

the young monk 

asks the old monk 

what to look out for 

when growing old.

The old monk 

pauses and says

not much. 

Life stays the same

for the most part.

Monks work and pray

but an old monk 

works slower and 

prays faster.

But not to worry,

the old monk advises.

He admits he's 

going deaf

but that's just

an inconvenience 

since God uses 

sign language.

Peaches like these

have no need to talk.

Donal Mahoney lives in St. Louis, Missouri.

John W.L. Toivonen- A Poem

The Baptist in the Morning

His only agency was the silence

with which he started each morrow in the field
that rested behind his straw and earthen home.
This earth was the alter, the resting place
where his spirit stretched and contracted time.
He did not hear his wife's voice when his mind
aligned in melody with the Father.
What did he see? The silent prayer was a trance
where a purple violet flowered in the sky
to kiss John's mind. Each color became proof
that beauty was painted by the mind of God.
He was cradled by a great will knowing that
each melodious sound gathered his and each
believing soul to perfect unity.


John W. L. Toivonen published his first book of poetry, Song After a Long Campaign, in 2013. Toivonen has published his work in Atavic Poetry, Midwest Poetry Review, and Paterson Literary Review. His work will appear in the 2014 edition of Roanoke Review.

Robert Pettinger- A Poem

Journey 

Go in peace

With a spirit of courage 

To a land, far away.

Adventures await, challenges lurk.

It won't be easy, it will be tough

You will laugh; you will cry. 

You may wonder, why? 

Did you come, choose to go?

 Remember your Savior

Go with your God.

He will surround you with His love 

Cover you, with His grace. 

He will not forget you 

Nor ever abandon you. 

He awaits for you to listen

Remember and learn anew 

Old and new realities 

Of Him and His creation. 

God speed, in Gods strength.

When you fall

Get back up and run

Never surrender

Only to the one

Who gave Himself for all.

Lela Marie De La Garza- A Poem

                                             

                                             ALL I SEE

 

Countless beauties

Beckon me:

There is joy

In all I see.

 

Miracles

And mystery:

There is love

In all I see.

 

One Force brought

All this to be:

There is God

In all I see.