Shekinah Glory

Tuesday Prayer

Like the shoots surrounding an old stump
we bring new life out of old,
hydrate our juvenile roots
until we are strong and independent.



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I saw 15 rhotodendrum trees blooming in the woods yesterday- Elsa’s first birthday. Your wonderful poem and the flowers remind me of Dylan Thomas.


The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman’s lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover’s tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

Comment by jesse quam

Thanks for the poem and give Elsa a hug from us all.

Comment by pastorofdisaster

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