knotted gut

i be with knotted gut

with constipation of the soul

bearing the grey pallor of despair

lusting for that peace

which this world cannot give

mine is the suffering of the mocked

desirous for life, not crafting its path

yet longing more than dopish bonds

or stilted chatter before the tube

freedom whimpers somewhere

somehow its squeaking cry escapes

oh God, there's more to life than this

there's more than dour months and cold friends

crucified God-Man

sweating in the sauna of hate

i sense the devil's kiss upon my lonely brow

arising from the tomb i bear

blind the Father of Lies

dwelling within my heart

True Word upon whom my faith doth rest

speak hope to the gut my dungeon holds

Your light draws darkness

from it vanquishing night

by the Breath of your love

breathe and freshen the night

*Reflections of Frederick Buechner:

  -The more alive and alert we are, the more clamorous our lives are.  Which do we listen to?  What kind of voice do we listen for?

  -...it is the sermons we preach to ourselves around the preacher's sermons that are the ones that we hear most powerfully.

  -We can love (Jesus), we can learn from him, but we can come to know him only by following him - by searching for him in his church, in his Gospels, in each other.

  -The stories that Jesus tells are about us.