Saint Stephen

Saint Stephen by Luis de Morales

Saint Stephen

Stephen’s gaze

Pierced through

To heaven

Through the haze


© December 25, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

The Face of God

It was a pleasure reading this poem, "The Face of God", at Quisqueya Christian School's annual Staff Christmas Party. Tara Thorn signed the poem along with the reading. This is a later recording of the poem, along with Hebrews 1:1-4, which was recorded at home the following weekend.


The Face of God

Once we walked in the loving gaze
Of the face of God
In Eden’s beauty paradise
On heavenly earth; on heavenly sod
Our transgressions made us outcasts
And dark winds blew us,
To the East, it threw us
The wind withered the land
The fallen outnumbered the sand
None could rest, not kings in their riches
Nor the poor with outstretched hand . . .
And the prophets cried out
The priests offered sacrifice and praise with shout,
And the kings waged war and decreed
Until it was clear, all people bleed
And silence deafened the people in need
Then the starry night came. . .
Wise men were called from the East
Back to their Prince of Peace
His star led them there
With gifts of worship so fine and fair
The Light had entered darkness
After four hundred years of silence
Broken in a babies cry
For all to live, who once had died
The Shepherds came with staff and rod,
And these wise men, to see the face of God
In former days, and in many ways
God spoke and now by His Son,
In these latter days
He walks again with His people
In Eden made anew
His face and their face; seen through and through
To once again walk in that loving gaze
In the Glory of the face of God
In Eden’s paradise
On heavenly sod
To be right again with our God
Heaven came down and intimacy restored
Both rich and poor have seen their Lord


© December 2011, Robbie Pruitt


Hebrews 1:1-4

“God, who at various times and in various ways spoke in time past to the fathers by the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us by His Son, whom He has appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the worlds; who being the brightness of His glory and the express image of His person, and upholding all things by the word of His power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become so much better than the angels, as He has by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they.”

Been Fishing for Me

 Photo by William Doran. Creative Commons license via Flickr.

Been Fishing for Me

The old man and the sea

Fished into eternity

I’ve been fishing for me

Casting constantly

Waiting endlessly

For a great catch from this sea

Hemingway never made it

To the end of the catch you see

He was caught by death and despair

When his line tugged under

He pulled and fought

Until his fingers bled

He was pulled asunder

Distraught until he was dead

The old man caught the sea

And I wonder, “What will become of me?”


© August 8, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

This post was written for the Tweetspeak Poetry prompt using “fishing” as a metaphor for life. You can click here to read more or to submit your own.

The Old Man and The Sea animated movie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5ih1IRIRxI

Carved Wooden Soldier

Hand Carved Wooden Soldier,

photo by emilydickinsonridesabmx from Flickr.com

Carved Wooden Soldier

The old man

Sits and carves

Entrenched lines

Like wrinkles

In the furl of his brow

Layers are stripped

Like mines

As he whittles in time

Slivers curl back as years

With shavings and tears

As remnants fall like shrapnel

To the cutting room floor

In disciplined craftsmanship

The essence of childhood

Is revealed in wood

As the toy soldier stood

The old man salutes what is lost

And what would never be understood


© November 5, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

Prayer of Thanksgiving for Heroic Service

“O Judge of the nations, we remember before you with grateful
 hearts the men and women of our country who in the day of
 decision ventured much for the liberties we now enjoy. Grant 
that we may not rest until all the people of this land share the
 benefits of true freedom and gladly accept its disciplines. This
 we ask in the Name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (Book of Common Prayer, p. 839)

This poem, Carved Wooden Soldier, was featured on Tweetspeak Poetry’s Whittles and Wood: Photo Play and Prompt here.

This poem, Carved Wooden Soldier, was first featured on Tweetspeak Poetry’s Whittles and Wood: Poetry Prompt and Playlist here.

This was the Poetry Prompt: “You’re watching an old timer peel away layers of wood with a pocketknife he’s had since boyhood. What is he whittling? What does it tell you about him?”

The allusion to a war veteran in the poem is intentional. The old man used to carve soldiers and imagine great battles when he was a boy. In his old age, he now understands the costliness of war and has seen it first hand. He has his own carved lines from the experiences of being on the front lines. He has seen the horrors and carves the memories as he longs for innocence lost. He had whittled in the trenches and now he whittles remembering battles on minefields. He recalls his childhood and his collections of little wooden toy soldiers. He salutes his finished product as he remembers his friends he has lost to war, just as he had lost his childhood innocence on innumerable battle lines.

Mullions

Window Through the View Finder, 
photo from Flickr, by BotheredByBees

Mullions

Darkness falls nightly.

At dawn, as morning breaks,

The sunrise is framed

Light shines brightly

Through the window

Eliminating darkness’ shadow

Casting crosses in silhouette

Allowing hope’s expression to show

In shifting patterns of morning’s glow


© August 15, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

The Window’s Pane

Journey, photo from Flickr, by Nishanth Jois, NJ. 

The Window’s Pane

The window reveals

What’s beyond the pain

As it reflects the years

The wrinkles and tears

As drops slide down like rain

© August 15, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

Sky Pier

 Kiss the Sky, photo courtesy of Michael Bixler, http://mmbixler.tumblr.com

Sky Pier

What if the stairway to heaven

Was a weathered and tattered road

Elevated and broken

Steady and upward sloping

Covered in graffiti and kissing the sky

Accentuating the chasm

Demanding arms wide open

And a leap of faith as grand as the void

Stand steady in fear of height

In wonder of what has been

And all that transcends our sight

Kiss the sky and leap with all your might


© July 20, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

Dive

Photo of The Fall into Paradise, 2005, Bill Viola, Born: New York, New York 1951, from The Smithsonian American Art Museum website here

Dive

Break the waters

Splash the tide

Float the surface

Survive

Waters swirling

Torrent subside

Breathe the surface

Reside

© July 18, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

View a clip of The Fall into Paradise here:

http://americanart.si.edu/images/collection_media/2012/2012.56.mov

Zachariah Jones

Zachariah Jones, photo by Angel Shaw, February 9, 2014

Zachariah Jones

Zachariah Jones

Has this wisdom

In his weathered tones

The wrinkles in his brow

Furls with his goatee

Just as the little bird had told him how

Two decades ago—street-side

The music called

And this brother took it in stride

Zachariah Jones has rhythms and tones

He’s got music down in his bones


© February 11, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

Salt Creek

Photo by Bill Roth, courtesy of the photographer

Salt Creek

Twisted barbed wire

Like a crown of thorns

Calls back to a day forlorn

The weathered winter

And moss on the tree

Echo back from eternity

The roots spread

Into the mirrored glass

Of river—flowing past

Salt Creek flows ancient

As the ocean—Layered history

Rust, roots and rock—antiquity

© February 20, 2014, Robbie Pruitt

Poem inspired by photos and music by Jack Baumgartner: http://theschoolofthetransferofenergy.com/2014/02/20/salt-creek/