Wednesday, June 18, 2008
47 All Paths To God Are Sacred
On an Asheville spring hillside.. the divine lamplighter
ignited the mountain laurel's purple candelabra.. with her
constant praise to the Son and Abba
O Ganga in Bangladesh may you never again be the goddess of
The same God who spins cotton for ephods out of sod can
reknit any bone.. and make crying babies nod
Allah bless you and all in each and all ways... now and always.
God answers to all names by which called.
A spiral swirl of windwed weed Each tiniest wheat-huedneedle
caught a globe of dew.. a crystal rosary
of 59 beads already goldchained inside
Tree of Olive... Altar of Allah.. on it He has grown... olives for all
In kind Budapest.. the small and powerless are safe... for
in the eyes of Buddha.. none is a pest
Of a purple eve, the goldglowing church tower clock, both hands at
six, in the rain slowly drips on thirsty flowers below.
Sufis and suffragettes have focused on preventing
the suffering of fish suffocation.
The dawn birds sing before come the earliest beams
God's messengers come before He who all...... redeems
As in unmowed green pastures
grass is starred by wild asters
so the word of the peaceful master
will win oer silent priests and pastors
Before sparked the seed which Jesus said must die to live,
the hexagonal snowflake of form had to melt into formless
The rosary poem is to Charles Marshall