Wednesday, May 25, 2011


An angry artist painted 
jaded predictions into a young 
pastor’s portrait. Each sitting brushed
 telling layers onto the covered canvas 
 keeping its secret week to week. 
Unveiled, the easel revealed 
in detail how twenty years 
would finish the man.

Fifty years in his chosen 
vocation  hasn’t erased the warning 
framed and stretched. Waiting, closeted, 
it's an amulet, an antidote, a ready 
remedy if Botox unexpectedly 
tries to inject his soul
with apathy.  

His smile spilled a papa’s
patriarchal blessing over our 
waiting heads. Laugh lines cracked
 open around his eyes bestowing love and 
 benediction. We face our future now
with goodness and mercy following
 us, leavings left by a warrior
 poet whose life proves
the portrait wrong.

Lucky him, lucky you, lucky me.  

Coming down from the mountain has been difficult. The Image Seminar at Whitefish with Eugene and Jan Peterson was truly epic. He didn't merely write The Message, they live The Message. Greg read a piece called Born, Again and Again. It describes the entire experience perfectly. If I told the backstory for this poem, you would need to take your shoes off. Be content to ponder it with me, for I mustn't speak of the sacred just yet. 


Maureen said...

I'd like to know more.

And look at what you've accomplished with this poem!

Anonymous said...

we shall ponder...

Kandi said...

I am trying to be content....sounds awesome!

Kathleen Overby said...

Eugene had a different take on the word lucky. I will exchange it and trade it for fortunate and blessed from here on out. Reclaim it, for goodness sake.

Louise Gallagher said...

Then I am lucky to have read your poem.

Simply Darlene said...

Miss Kathleen, ever since I became a Believer, "luck" and "coincidence" have taken flight and landed on foreign shores.

Your words sing! Thanks for leaving us dangling our feet in the water, it's a grande place to be.


Toyin O. said...

What a wonderful poem, thanks for sharing.

Jennifer @ said...

This sounds like a wonderful experience, Kathleen. It's always hard to return to the valley after a mountaintop experience. But fruit grows in the valley, and it looks like some new things are already taking growing.

I'm excited to hear more, when (or if) you're ready to share those holy moments from the mountain.