Gone Boy

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Gone Boy

A squeak of a bus door,
Pierces chatter of tiny voices,
Engine grumbles to an awkward stop –
My new friend balances to his feet.

Pulling green, seat corners while passing by,
A shy smile and softly whispered, “Bye”,
Chris bounces down steps with a little hop,
to a corner where he crosses the street.

An ungreased squeak and slapping of doors,
Her impatient eyes peer through a noisy headache,
Runny nose, lunch box and left shoe untied,
A trapped shoelace trips this kindergartner’s gait.

Scooby-Doo lunch box crashes open,
A little boy splashes into the hot, black street,
Before her taken breath could exhale,
Red-lightning, a skidding thud; tires atop shoeless feet.

Terrified eyes catch mine,
Watch the bus!”, she mouths to me,
Her heart-wrenched screams of “Help!”
Get blankets!”, then silence, as all turn to see…

My baby!”, “My baby!” shatters the quiet,
A rush to cover body,
A small huddle catches a grieving mother,
While a strange, rush of peace covers me.

Years darkened by nightmares,
Wakening to saying the Lord’s prayer,
Yet, since Chris, I believed all would be well,
For peace stares unhesitatingly into Death’s glare.

I miss you friend. RIP Christopher Corbett, 1971

 

By Chris Clody
7/8/17

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Torrent of G-d

Heart shaped splash

O’ Faith,
Glistening in liquidity,
Iridescent mists covering the soul,
To flooding generations of hearts,
Moving compassion in fits and starts,
Legacies of broken rainbows,
Coloring forgotten moments,
Patiently watched by He who sows.
O’ Faith,
Gratitude knows no concessions,
To a heart that overflows,
No, I will not hold you Faith,
Rather watch you pass through,
Grace erodes a wider channel,
Indescribable joy ensues,
Feet dance to a higher will,
Hands quickened with compassion,
Brimming from holes love only fills.
O Faith,
Where would I be without you?

By Chris Clody
6/26/2017

Gentle Guest

Come, Holy Spirit come! Is a silent mantra that finds me especially when gathering the dust of distraction.  Life continues to happily snowball my little attachments like magnetic balls rolling through a steel mill.  Soon I become what I love the most. Looking back through my rear-view mirror of past events, the hidden pursuit of the Holy Spirit becomes clearer. Unexpectedly, it is through the thoughtful observance of wasteful love cooperatively spent within the life of the Trinity that the Holy Spirit perseveringly offers to detach me from the sticky ‘needs’ of life. Yet, this gentle Creator must be invited into my single want of His better will. I find repentance to be a beautiful and satisfying way to empty a room for my new house guest. At first this somewhat selfish and desperate need for rescue slowly transforms as I learn to question everything about myself and how I see myself through the Beatitudes, the gospel of Mathew’s social love, the transcendent quality of St. John’s descriptions that lifts my soul, the unmistakable intimacy inked within the Pentateuch, Isaiah’s soul-wrenching experience, and the irresistible, awe-inspiring incarnate reality found in and through Jesus the Christ. Truly, I must decrease…

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Come to me my joy!
Baptize me! Be my drink!
Fill this blank page with Your ink.
Messiah’s Spirit,
Swollen dew in Your mist,
Saturate me with Your kiss.
Will of hidden food,
Sip of newfound freedom,
Rescue of souls east of Eden.
Whet my lips with this wine
True drink that cannot turn,
Teach me all so I may learn.
Give light to these eyes,
Let me see Your Glory,
Expand this heart’s territory.
O’ sweet and gentle Guest,
Invade this ore’s darkness,
Lift the dross and leave the precious.
by Chris Clody
6/23/17

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Be Still

The gentle and patient handling of our curious souls thrust into bright lights, vibrant colors, and luscious sounds offers escape a holy, narrow path to solitude. Oh, and how, the stillness beckons us with the good and beautiful things that promise to fill a yearning heart. This choice is chosen in as much hope as in trust because of an immense love carefully gathering our rambunctious wills.

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This Quiet

This quiet,
Stolen by the heart,
A forbidden tryst,
Rejoins its lost part,
One flesh, two souls kiss,
Within the quiet,
This stillness,
Wild Love reigns free,
Within dawn’s wet pasture,
Fertile is His Will,
Translucent, foggy mist,
Alerted by songbirds shrill,
Two souls just exist,
This knowing,
This Lover’s embrace,
Irresistible to touch,
Gathers within a cloud,
Wonder incarnates,
Thoughts burst aloud,
Hearts vibrate,
As One,
Holy,
Moment in time.
This quiet.
Come to the
Quiet.

By Chris Clody
6/20/2017

All I ever known…

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The River Calls

The love of God,
Is all I’ve ever known,
A River rushing through,
Cooling burning bones.

Life becomes this passing prayer,
This ebb and flow of souls,
Going nowhere yet everywhere,
Drowning hopes and goals.

Still, the current seeks,
What muddy waters make blind to find,
An answer, a sound, new energy,
Streaming thoughts through my mind.

Lord, Your call carries me,
Down to its slippery edge,
Where slick rocks and wet grass dare,
To leap from its daring ledge.

Today Your river calls me,
To join what cools my fire,
Engulf and drench me Lord,
Your salvation wets my desire.

When I crest light your dove upon me,
Whilst I drift through You,
Add me to the Tears of Heaven,
To baptize with the morning dew.

Today, is the day, I was made for You.

by Chris Clody
5/30/2017

When The Bee Stings

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יְהֹוָה

When the bee stings,
a child’s tear erupts
A mother kisses away the pain
When the son disrespects;
his father disciplines,
Trust flowers anew,
Forgiveness blooms in request.
When Torah is celebrated;
His commands galvanize the beating heart
His Laws of Love infuses every jot and title,
Yeshiva lifts eyes to Sinai,
Love of יְהֹוָה and neighbor becomes a Temple.
When Profound Love finds favor;
A handmaid sings,
The Song of Hannah echoes once again,
A virgin is overshadowed,
Magnified is the soul of Theotokos.
When a Son is given;
A Way is infleshed,
A Truth awakens dim eyes,
A Life is revealed,
Magi honor a newborn King,
Psalm 19 finds its voice.
When the Olive is pressed;
Bled is Another’s will,
Stripes give healing,
A thorny crown pricks a King,
Via Doloroso is carved by His cross,
When the Son of God is crushed,
Blood and water baptize the earth,
The choir moans in silent expectation,
Obedience gives up His Ghost.
The Father’s tear anoints a gate through Heaven.
When faith, hope, and charity are sowed,
Crosses are hoisted and yoked to the downtrodden,
A disciple craves love of God and neighbor
The poor are fed,
The naked clothed,
The slave is set free,
The forgotten are welcomed,
Warmth and hope visit the sick and imprisoned,
The church gathers in song and praise.
Happy are the many
When unity is challenged, it offers strength
When friendship is betrayed, forgiveness is availed
When hope is pressured, patience abounds,
When faith is oppressed, fear evaporates,
When charity becomes human, creation finally evolves.

By Chris Clody,
5/26/17

 

Still don’t know what we’re doing…

weptI wonder when the influence of art, culture, and religious politics convinced the mainstream that peering at a crucifixion was a message of love. Bear with me… on a subtle point that continues to steal from the curiously faithful.

Yes. I know. God is Love and sent His begotten from the depths of that love.

Yet, crucifixion, and the events leading up to this politically motivated homicide (that unknowingly fulfilled scripture) also had a purpose of taking the sin of humanity and putting it on display.

Our sin is and will always be violence. Remember…”Forgive them Father for they no not what they’re doing.”

When we categorize sin we also dilute our greater need for the death of Christ. Furthermore, when some dwell on how ‘lovely’ is ‘Our’ Jesus mounted within a sanitized setting above an altar or others look upon cross without His corpse, we continue to forget humanity’s greatest fault for the Trinity’s greatest virtue. When we lose ourselves in Divine Love we begin to only see ourselves as important. Hence the popularity of a ‘personal relationship with G-d’ and “You Matter” yard signs that perpetually feeds an obese ego. Jesus, I believe, became man so we could focus on human relationships not worship some faraway G-d no one quite understood. He also confronted our need for power with a challenge to love instead. Violence corrodes everything it touches. Its insidious blight leaves many lonely, poor, persecuted, or dead. Hopefully now when we stare long enough at the image of the crucifixion we may come to the understanding that we are saved as a community not some pious winner of Heaven’s golden ticket – because we are so loved.

It is not about you or me but respecting the dignified Image breathed within all of us. How can we ever expect to be known by our Judge when we never loved Him within another. No– you really don’t matter more than we matter.

Motivated by the indelible image atop of Calvary, the faith instilled into a disciple becomes fearless by example and courageous words of peace when faced by humanity’s knee-jerk aggression, even unto death.

Make sense?

Now, treat yourself and read the Beatitudes!

Love one another.
Chrisnyfireman