Christopher Yokel's Blog, page 5

Poem: God Grew

God grew bone,
vertebrae stacked into a spine,
rib cage spread
to house his heart
and lungs,
a stomach to know hunger
and tongue to taste.
Olive skin spread, stitched together,
swirled into fingerprints.

Likely he had brown eyes
which blinked bleary open
that first day
and sharpened to sight.

His skull held a brain
which learned language,
memorized psalms and prophets,
and soaked up all the world had to offer.

Poem: Second Snowfall

This morning
while I drove to work
grey skies swollen
with snow 
dropped fat flakes
in a flurry.

This afternoon
I walk the woods
with the sun shining
as a second snowfall
drifts down
from the branches.

NovPAD: Instructions on How to Survive Social Media

Been pondering the ways I fill my time and mental space with mindless scrolling… 

Don’t even try, just
unplug that sucker and
hide it behind the boxes of
Christmas decorations,
toss the phone in the
dumpster behind Walmart, drive
upstate where there’s space,
and trees, live
simple, get to
know people, grow
a few vegetables and
breathe the free air.

NovPAD: Night of the Silver Moon

For some reason I’ve been in a mythical mood this November PAD. Here’s an example of that: 

On the night
of the silver moon
the village children
gather their spoons
and dance on the hill
above the town
with a click and a clack
moving up and down

The moonlight reflects
on their silver clothes
with bangled shoes
they stomp their toes
and dance on the hill
above the town
with a click and a clack
moving up and down

The moon leans in
as the children sing
of the silver stars
and the moon’s bright king
and dance on the hill
above the town
with a click and a clack
moving up and down

The moon now beams
as the children praise
the queen of night
sitting on her daise
and dance on the hill
above the town
with a click and a clack
moving up and down

The red sun rises
the moonlight fades
and the children return
to their dwelling places
and flee from the hill
above the town
with nary a noise
and hardly a sound.

Nov PAD: Three Trees

The November Poem-A-Day challenge has arrived once again, and I’m participating as much as possible. I’ll be sharing some of my favorites here over the coming weeks. This was in response to the “poem of threes” prompt:

Three trees graced a hill
in late October,
one red,
one yellow,
one mottled all over.

The red was bright
like a fairy fire,
the yellow gold
like the burning sun,
the mottled bore the best
of each one.

The red tree’s leaves
were the first to fall,
spinning to earth
like well dressed dancers.

The yellow’s leaves
soon followed after
caught in the wind
falling faster and faster.

The mottled tree
held last of all,
red and gold
in the late sunlight,
but finally too
its leaves did fall,
scattering before
approaching night.

Three trees graced a hill,
in late November,
all bare branches,
but still they remember.

Poem: The King of Autumn

I’ve got a new poem up on The Rabbit Room, inspired by Douglas McKelvy’s Every Moment Holy liturgy, “A Praise to the King of Creation”

Read it here.

Poem: Kearsarge Cemetery

I do not want to disturb the dead,
here at Kearsarge Cemetery,
so I will walk quietly
while the birds begin to sing
and the sun slips up over
the eastern mountains.

Poem: Popsicles

This is just to say
I have eaten the strawberry popsicle
that was in the freezer,
and now all that’s left
is this sad spine of a stick.

Perhaps if I ate enough popsicles
I could design a craft activity
for children.

Yes,
that is an excellent reason
to eat more popsicles.

My Attention Is My Prayer

Today on The Rabbit Room I’m talking about practicing paying attention: 

I’m realizing that part of my distractedness and lack of internal stillness is this lack of paying attention, which, by the way, is not the same as “paying attention” to what’s happening on social media. I need to give myself time, not only to escape from distraction, but to observe and listen to my own inner life and the life happening around me. I’ve also realized that I need tools to help me practice this.

Read more here.

Poem: O Light

A mystic hymn

O Boundless Mystery of Light
We praise You.
O Endless Shining Beam
We rejoice in You.
O River of Glowing Warmth
We delight in You.
Sacred Light,
Glorious Light,
Enlivening Light,
Shine on us.