Secular Saints

Stories, Essays, Poems. A Fumbling Attempt At Theology.

Name:
Location: Crested Butte, Colorado, United States

My stationary says I'm a treeehouse builder, teacher, church planter, pastor, gardener, poet, writer, runner, cross country skier, philosopher, husband, father. It's all true. It can be ehausting, as you can imagine. In October 2003 my family and I left a small town in South Dakota (I was pastoring a church) and returned to the Gunnison Valley, where we lived for a couple years in the mid-nineties. We came here to plant a church, a task for which we are completely unqualified. My wife and I recieved a NOT RECOMMENDED stamp from a rather extensive assessment conducted by our denomination. The folks in Crested Butte didn't care. Neither, it seems, did God. Well, that church has since run its life course. Now I do construction and teach a writing class at Western State University. I also recreate with my beautiful family, read, theologize and write short stories (some of them are at cautionarytale.com and iceflow.com; others are in a book called "Ravens and Other Stories" -- available from Amazon, etc., or publishamerica.com).

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

The sky tonight

The sky tonight is a cracked vase
shards of purple, orange, and red
shine among dark lines of clouded underbellies.

There is a Japanese term
-wabi sabi-
which means delight in imperfection,
like the asymmetry of every face,
like the splintered sky and vase.

my mind rolls
to my mother and my father.
They who, in a moment I know not,
-in passion, need, fear, love, or spite-
in a moment I know not,
cast me as a fish without sight
into a shrinking sea,
who bound me over
to the living world,
whose love shines wabi sabi
across my sky.

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