Names we never knew

When we turn on the radio or the TV, we see the wake of human wars. This is a haiku poem that calls for peace in the many battles around the world.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
“Names we never knew”
 
Names we never knew
spilled on smoky battlefields.
A cry from the cross.
 
 
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Names we never knew by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

wings will come

In times of turmoil, I am comforted by the psalmist’s words: “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul….” (Psalm 23:2-3) Restoration sometimes comes through transformation.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

“wings will come”
 
it is invasive and clings
    around me, a constant reminder.
trapped: changing and no way
      to chew free of bindings 
            I spun myself with wishes and choices
         that I never knew could lead here.
but in the gauzy darkness i
know the wings
    will come.
 
you have been hoping for your own day
         in the open 
     for even longer than I have.
I cannot see you anymore,
     but somewhere in your own cocoon
  you are growing colors like 
      Arizona sunsets
that are outlined with your bold resolve
     like an inked sketch of
     your future.
 
let’s meet in the air,
you and I.

 
 
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wings will come by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Change

I think I’m in good company when I say that my life has unexpectedly become a time of tumultuous changes. This poem draws on two of my favorite Bible stories, the changing of water to wine (John 2:1-11) and the feeding of the five thousand (John 6:1-15*), for inspiration for courage to face the changes before me. These stories tell me that with God’s power, we can overcome our challenges, transitions, and uncertainty.

God bless,
Morgan

*There are multiple accounts in the Gospels of the feeding of the five thousand; I chose the one from the Gospel of John.

“Change”

At some point we all face
plain water 
      filling up jars at wedding beginnings.
Cool, simple, and familiar, it beckons
     us to leave well enough alone
     for now.
Too often we freeze in place where you
    moved into miracles, splashed into
rich red tomorrows. 

I am the boy with the five loaves
      and two fish who you met on your
journeys in the desert. 
I hold out my meager collection of
    courage and hope and ask that you
multiply these pieces
        until I have enough 
to feed a multitude. 

 
 
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Change by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Foundation

Hello everyone,
 
The story of Nehemiah in the Bible is about a man dedicated to the work of God. His project was rebuilding Jerusalem’s wall and the Jewish culture there after it had been conquered by enemies. It was not a smooth ride, and at the end of the story, Nehemiah makes many prayers asking, “Remember me, O my God,” because he feels like no one else is, even after all his work (Nehemiah 13:14).
 
Though he did not get a resounding victory, Nehemiah stayed in step with God every day by telling Him his fears (“Remember me”), asking for His help, and doing his best in everything. However our own goals in life turn out, we can follow Nehemiah’s example and live a testimony like his in all we work for.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
Nehemiah 13:14 “Remember me, O my God, concerning this, and do not wipe out my good deeds that I have done for the house of my God and for his service.”

“Foundation”
 
Weary hours crush
     your shoulders.
The foundation you dug
    for your dream is now
    another hole in your field of years
       like the backside of the moon:
                          a bit closer to the stars,
             but full of craters. 
 
You dug deep and sure,
   worked alongside friends,
   poured in your soul—
and watched
            greedy soil suck it dry.
 
You won’t dig again.
 
I join you, trembling tearfully to see
     you stare at another lost foundation.
You, the wise one, the encourager,
     the longest fighter. 
What did each hole bring you?
They are candles without enough wick,
     so bright and perfect, and then they run out.
 
I sit beside you at this latest hole.
         I have no words for the future; I am young and
         still imagine rainbows behind black clouds.
But in this moment, 
   from what I’ve seen so far,
I tell you this: 
Every shovelful you took
    showed me your passion,
    dedication, and daring.
Every new dream you worked for
    taught me I could work for mine.
Every bit deeper you went, 
     grace and tenacity and boundless faith
     dug lines into your hands, curling
        around calluses like calligraphy
            spelling out your love for creation.
 
I do not know if this field
     will hold the answers, 
but still,
     I pray you will dig again.

 
 

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Foundation by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Threshold

Hello everyone,
This is a poem for all facing changes and transitions in their lives. We are told by Jesus Christ not to be concerned about the future (Matthew 6:25-34). When we focus on and value our present moments, even ones of change, I think we can see beauty where we are—or where we are headed.
God bless,
Morgan
 
“Threshold”
 
I face doorways with dread boiling hot and fierce in my bones, a primal fire.
Warily, I cross into the halls
beyond.
 
Trouble, joy, questions, answers, faith, and fear
cram the hallways and rooms I find.
my eyes miss the angels and stare
at the demons smirking at my feet.
 
Heart like a rocking ship, I set out,
and only when I reach
the threshold
do I know it is always
an entrance
and I am here before I ever took the time
to cherish what lay behind.
 
I have met too many doorways with fear.
it is time I forge forward with a weather eye,
just as ready to spot rainbows as storms.
 
 
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Threshold by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The Fisherman

Hello everyone,
 
This poem is about the calling of the disciples. I focused on the story of Peter, found in the Gospel of Luke. Peter and his fellow fishermen hadn’t caught any fish all day, but when they listened to Jesus’ instructions, they suddenly had a huge catch. The miracle made Peter realize who Jesus was. I explored Peter’s internal reaction to the miracle and the call to follow Jesus.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

“The Fisherman”
By Morgan Prettyman
Luke 5:1-11
 
at the word of a stranger
    I sail to the deep water
      that has done nothing for me all night
  but disappoint.
        my fine fishing nets hang empty, arms drag
     exhausted, shoulders sag.
 there is nothing here.  I will prove it
    to him. 
 
I do as he says and 
    cast the nets again.
but as I throw them over the side
   my heart
        plunges in shock at the weight
   of the unexpected catch,
      the unexpected understanding. 
I am in the net, flapping in and out
     of the water in surprise
         at my first breath of real air,
dying to my old world and
      rising up to the new.
hauling in the shaking nets,
   I turn to the stranger on my boat
and see the Fisherman 
     smiling at his catch.

 
 
 
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The Fisherman by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

the yellow light

Hello everyone,
 
I found and updated another old poem to share for this week – a call to slow down and give the busyness to God when it is too much for us.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

“the yellow light”
 
jangled jostled jarring
i am riding on this
busy road of a day
until the red light
at the end
when my fuel runs out
and i 
            stop
the horns are blaring bleating blinding
from every which way
and there are too many
ways to go
signs to read
and all i want is my
                     destination
reaching over i
turn down the radio
with its voices of sad stories
angry people and advertisements,
turn it down so i can
                                   think.
thinking turns to praying
because my list 
of places to go and 
errands to run
has gotten too long.
i hand it over
                            now.
peace-bringing prayer
echoes in my mind like
soft songs in a cathedral.
the busy road becomes
straight and narrow
and i see now only 
                             by headlights.
softly singing simple songs
from sunday school days 
of simplicity,
i slow down to wait in
the golden light
                at the crossroads.

 
 
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the yellow light by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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