A Needful Extravagance by Jan Richardson Wednesday of Holy Week Sonnet But they did not understand what he meant.They were afraid to ask him about it.But She had eyes to see where all this wentAnd eyes to see the meaning so unlitTo men who tried their best but couldn’t see.She broke the jar and pouredContinueContinue reading “Wednesday of Holy Week Sonnet”
Author Archives: Benjamin White
Tuesday of Holy Week Sonnet
Red Parable – Hans Hoffman – 1964 Tuesday of Holy Week Sonnetan Ode to ParablesTo find a weed that truly is a flower,To draw a circle as any other square,Of sons and fathers, farmers, pigs and towers;The sheep and maidens, millstones You saw thereYou made a lasting tome, so brief as toBeguile that word, andContinueContinue reading “Tuesday of Holy Week Sonnet”
Monday of Holy Week Sonnet
Monday of Holy Week Sonnetwith love to Rich Mullins When you were twelve they marveled at you, Lord;At how a boy so young could know the thingsYou knew. And when they streamed together towardYou preaching on the mount, you gave a stringOf pearls that many heard and thusly provedThey were not swine but humans whoContinueContinue reading “Monday of Holy Week Sonnet”
Palm Sunday Sonnet
The lengths to which the Lord will go to showUs who he is astound us every year.He takes on symbols those who see might know,If they have eyes to see and ears to hear.If they had heard the prophets, and they had,They’d see what he was doing, and they did,And yet somehow they missed him,ContinueContinue reading “Palm Sunday Sonnet”
Apotheotics
Could I pour unending streamsBut for the joy of splashing,Or storm I high above the seaBut for the lighting flashing? Might I become so much like youThat only my self-givingCould ever light my deepest fire,Or make my life worth living? Is it true that once poured outA cup is ever empty?Or can my love becomeContinueContinue reading “Apotheotics”
Hospital Notes #6
Stained Glass in the Nemours Chapel Today is my last day working at Nemours Children’s Hospital in Wilmington, Delaware. It has been a rich time in many ways: a time for recovery from a devastating loss; a time of rediscovery of a passion for pastoral care which had lain dormant for a decade; a timeContinueContinue reading “Hospital Notes #6”
My Response to Mary’s Song
I was reflecting on the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) and thinking this might need to be the response from a privileged person like me. I imagined singing this to myself when I am tempted to join one of the basic lies that props up the powerful. Stand a Little Taller? No! Fuck grit and determination!Damn yourContinueContinue reading “My Response to Mary’s Song”
Burl of Trail: A Friday Sonnet
Burl of TrailOn the Hemlock Point Trail at the Green Lane Reservoir in Montgomery County, PA When those who looped a trail around this lake,Arrived right here, there was a brief reprieve,And someone wondered whether they should snakeAround or cut the path right through. The tree Survived, but sometime between now and then,The tree wasContinueContinue reading “Burl of Trail: A Friday Sonnet”
Ho Telōnai Kai Ho Hamartōloi
What is a pack of tax collectors (telōnai) called?after Luke 15:1 Murder of crows,Flamboyance of flamingos, Parliament of owls,Pride of lions! Humans of a certain kind–Can they, should they alsoHave their gatheringsUniquely named?If we borrow from the animals’ names,Those tax collectors Jesus loved Perhaps could be a brood, or obstinacy,See them answer to “swarm”, or “shadow”, orContinueContinue reading “Ho Telōnai Kai Ho Hamartōloi”
Deep Gratitude, High Praise: a poem with birds in it, and not the kind you eat.
Deep Gratitude, High Praise after Psalm 111 Alleluia! The deepest in me Belongs to so much deeper, higher. Cormorants paddle past me Disappearing below the surface, Emptying elegant rows. For a few moments, as they move through Gray clouds doubled from High above their heads, I am distinctly aware that Just as these swimming birds Keep diving underwater, Leaving rippled traces on the Mirrored sky, and in emergence NeverContinueContinue reading “Deep Gratitude, High Praise: a poem with birds in it, and not the kind you eat.”
The Child in Their Midst
The Child in Their Midst The child, my inner child, or the childlike faith yet in me, does not demand more of the seen than he ought. He knows there is so muchHe doesn’t know. He doesn’t forgetall things beautifully unknown, The always more on which his seen reality rests, The everything of which he never expects to know.ContinueContinue reading “The Child in Their Midst “
Hospital Notes #5: To Be Known is to Be Seen
A friend of mine often says, “It’s so nice to put my eyes on you.” I appreciate the intention of that sentence. Seeing is not just a passive thing that happens when she does it. She is really looking at me. I hope to look at others that way. I want to stretch out theContinueContinue reading “Hospital Notes #5: To Be Known is to Be Seen”
The Hard Problem of Consciousness
I was hanging out with some philosophers this weekend at Theology Beer Camp. Here’s a sonnet that fell out of my journal. The Hard Problem of Consciousness Are we just flukes of impossible chance?Could something as uncharted as my mindEmerge from concrete churn of cosmic dance?Colliding into consciousness to findEternity’s blind dream seated nowIn timeContinueContinue reading “The Hard Problem of Consciousness”
A Better View
A Better View after Matthew 18:22 It takes a long timeTo get to the beginning.It takes decades, maybe,To dig up to breaking dirt.Counting up to zeroFrom minus forty-nine –Counting up form negativeFive hundred thirty-nine –It’s seven times sevenTimes seven times time!The first shall be last,Because your first is far beneath you;Underground and dead where youContinueContinue reading “A Better View”
Where Wolves Go
Photo Cred: Manfred Neumair Where Wolves Go I pressed my palm into the snowBeside your giant paw;My fingers stretched just longer thanThe claws above your toes;I want right now to understandYour running into lowsAnd over highs with empty jaws;I want to feel desire’s ache,Your longing’s lactic acid flowThat blood alone can slake.Could anything propel meContinueContinue reading “Where Wolves Go”
I Could Never Write a Love Song
The choice is clear; I know the only thingFor anything is love. No matter whatThe claims of either side may be, we singCreation into nothingness, and cutThe chords that sing inside us unless weIn flowing fifths or even fourths, our choice,Addend the primal song of love. We’re free To make each note our own; butContinueContinue reading “I Could Never Write a Love Song”
On Ways of Would-Have-Beens
One wakeful midnight, I went where my mindWould go, and found myself a ways down waysOf Would-Have-Beens, in woods where many kindsOf rancors live — red hot regret, despairAmong them most for me. But that night cameA coolness (maybe from the mountain airI welcomed through my open window frame,Or maybe the cicadas singing there)That placedContinueContinue reading “On Ways of Would-Have-Beens”
He Could Have
He Could Have Each time I’ve gone for a hike in the cloudsI’ve made my own way through rich loamy white.Once my boot sank deep and cried I aloud,”Don’t rain me down! I would die from this height!”To my surprise a cloud voice then replied,”You have no wings, no wand here to waft you,How cameContinueContinue reading “He Could Have”
On Missing the Perseid Meteor Shower
On Missing the Perseid Meteor Shower I didn’t have it in me; not this year. Instead, I dozed in dreamless sleep. Lights on, Heartsong silenced, dreamscapes dashed by TV Sounds, flickers, surfeit of nothingness squared. Meanwhile, high above me, Earth’s atmosphere Was sparking falling stars. Now night’s gone, And morning dreams of what I failed to see Are only flicked off matches whenContinueContinue reading “On Missing the Perseid Meteor Shower”
Counting Birds On My Front Porch
Counting Birds On My Front Porch That’s two hundred swallows, it must be, (200) Nine mallards chasing their lust free, (9) Four sparrows in street dirt get dusty, (4) And across the lake in the brush, I can just see One heron so stark-still he trusts me. (1) Six geese gliding doubled in lake green, (6) Two mourning dove songsContinueContinue reading “Counting Birds On My Front Porch “
Today, if you hear his voice 