Poets’ Corner

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At a Performance of Bach’s St. John Passion

The night outside the concert hall is cold. The audience arriving? Most are old. Some push their walkers. Many walk with canes. Some are in wheelchairs. Nobody complains, For they’ve been promised bodies remade, new. How can that be? The music holds a clue. They’ll hear a sound they hope that heaven makes, A passion…

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Love the Sin and Hate the Sinner

Disclaimer: This poem contains adult themes. Reader discretion is advised. Now is it sanctity or is it fear That moves a man in public to declare Forgiveness? Is it love, and is it love? When bodies lie but scarcely cold, and words Are said, are we so holy, or are we Just ordinary, moved by…

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Contrition

No hesitation, Lord, Do I, in sinning, feel In thought or deed or word. Keep back, I pray, my sin’s reward, Nor let me hesitation feel In repenting afterward.

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The Mountains of St. Gabriel

I see no shrouded silhouette or trace Of solid might—thick haze conceals The mountains of St. Gabriel again As if they never were; all mist, These memories of paths perfumed with sage And broom, of hills where Our Lord’s candles rise From dagger mounds and where the scrub jays screech– Their flight like blue sparks…

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Lenten Sonnet

O God, who mak’st the tow’ring mountains melt, Look not upon my westward-facing sin: I pray thee to expunge the wrong I’ve dealt And turn my soul toward the East again. I have no sacrifice to offer thee: Thy word and sacrament my heart accuse. Accept my purple robe from Calvary; Thy son no contrite…

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A Lenten Poem

’Twas forty-days of the journey long, long, long; dragging through the desert. Boots worn thin and tired from hurt. Sand between toes tires even the strong as they travel wearily cross the dunes. No food but Words, swirling within. A morsel of water to calm the gullet, and no bed but a mat, covered in…

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First Wednesday

One step down, my back turned against pear groves As the perfume of orange blossoms drifts On the breeze, mixed memoirs of when we clove Tightly to each other. An anchor lifts, But casually, skirting the floor and primed To fall in the wake of first resistance, And I don’t know if its weight is…

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Tales of Two Rich Men

A Certain Young Ruler Luke 18:18–29. He seemed to make sense then, this Jesus, the “prophet,” A few days ago when he urged being shrewd When making investments to earn a good profit, But now I can see the man wants to exclude All those who know business and aren’t just naïve. He talks of…

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St. Jerome in the Desert

The lion at your side, Like you, cadaverous master, Stares up at the dark sky And waits this world’s disaster. With never a pause you pray And with creation groan, Striking at your hard heart To break it with a stone. Did you find holiness Inside the cave you keep, And does the Spirit guard…

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Going to the Dogs

Isaiah 11:6 I learned a new phrase yesterday. That new phrase was, “Our canine child.” The speaker then went on to say, “We rescued him when he was wild— But don’t you think he rescued us?” I nodded, smiled like I agreed, Yet deep inside was curious About where all of this will lead. I…

(c) 2025 North American Anglican

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