5 - Revelation 5:1-14
42 - Psalm 42:1-11
8 - Psalm 8:1-9
11 - launched April 6, 1973, lost contact November 30, 1995
58 - http://www.live58.org - Isaiah 58:1-14
grasses long, longer
burrows deeper grown, down our
meadows braided soon, when you
come our pastures known will empty two
one meadow sown.
day one, Sunday
mist fell around our breakfast
of fresh bread, preserves, whole fruits, and steeped tea or
cocoa, orange juice or grapefruit. Many years of one day begun
home.
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Thoughts of an abridged education, how bridges are necessary for completing work begun or work blocked along the way; tunnels necessary for passages and conveyance: gray matters.
Praise for the Lord’s Mercies
A Psalm of David.
103
1 Bless the Lord, O my soul;
And all that is within me, bless His holy name!
2 Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget not all His benefits:
3 Who forgives all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases,
4 Who redeems your life from destruction,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies,
5 Who satisfies your mouth with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
6 The Lord executes righteousness
And justice for all who are oppressed.
7 He made known His ways to Moses,
His acts to the children of Israel.
8 The Lord is merciful and gracious,
Slow to anger, and abounding in mercy.
9 He will not always strive with us,
Nor will He keep His anger forever.
10 He has not dealt with us according to our sins,
Nor punished us according to our iniquities.
11 For as the heavens are high above the earth,
So great is His mercy toward those who fear Him;
12 As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
13 As a father pities his children,
So the Lord pities those who fear Him.
14 For He knows our frame;
He remembers that we are dust.
15 As for man, his days are like grass;
As a flower of the field, so he flourishes.
16 For the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
And its place remembers it no more.[a]
17 But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
On those who fear Him,
And His righteousness to children’s children,
18 To such as keep His covenant,
And to those who remember His commandments to do them.
19 The Lord has established His throne in heaven,
And His kingdom rules over all.
20 Bless the Lord, you His angels,
Who excel in strength, who do His word,
Heeding the voice of His word.
21 Bless the Lord, all you His hosts,
You ministers of His, who do His pleasure.
22 Bless the Lord, all His works,
In all places of His dominion.
Bless the Lord, O my soul!
31. If a poem is not worthy, delete it, as many times as necessary.
Matter. Do we bring our forms
in feather worship through feline
joys, thanking the morning through
one bird caught, held, devoured like a
science project, carefully appointed: piston
fluff in tufts barely touch the floor, the bird lain
Reverence down, both wings and tail feathers intact,
carefully exposed insides, intestines gone, yet tiny organs
silent near the darker head, crumpling perfect feline saliva.
we recognize anxiety in self
ish-ness, dizzy bitten eyes fading
through the crown of our head,
cranium deli-{}-gating society un-
met, yet, our garments are laid up
on our platform, where recently Sleep
commanded our stillness, calling in-
visibility, prayers we might today
remain unaffected, natural within
our neighbor's house, conversing
like to unlike, nutrients mending differ
references, not pretending things un-
true; only natural presence with
other faint or strong souls.
a tiny tail feather of a
blue jay, this evening before
nightfall, along the border grown
in hearty, tall, same green weeds cove
ring bright Jay's planted succulents, unique
each one, paired in families complementary to each.
a large gift, winged from
Nora spread in the kitchen, cool
prize of something like wet leaves, yet no
thing, except the death of a leaf's color, for this
gift was a blue monarch butterfly, dying with one gorgeous
wing, covering its submissive body attached, baring dignity in its
colors spread twice in bits
on the floor. I thanked Nora
and cried, lifting the beauty to a
paper towel, all parts blessing,
seeing God through
butterfly grief.
clear
cleave
cloy
cave
coy
cay
le
le
l
lelel
moments
mloemleenlts
He grapples with rebellion
in me today, seeking the mattress
for resolution is, knowledge that work
is escape and uncertainty. It is not friend,
ship raising anchor with burdens in tow, lines
affixed to smaller, stronger tugs, guiding barges
toward deep water, wider
horizon is one horizon ever,
one horizon seen, named until death; do we part?
Are you aboard, sighted man, either guiding this
vessel or leaping down the dock plank to ensure
others are sound in their goals? I grapple with
rebellion again, seeking the mattress, waiting
with resolution, paid to surgeons decades
back. Seeing fantasies as drudgery, un-
clear states of known misery kept for
weight like this, weight that turns
its head, soul, mind, heart into
man-made high inches of
propped comfort, deny-
ing there ever was a
spontaneous song
inside me here.