Pillars

In this poem I reflect on Exodus 13:21, which is about how God guided the Israelites to their promised land: “By day the Lord went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night.” Thousands of years later, God still guides us, showing us the way to life abundant for ourselves and the many people of the world.
 
God bless,
Morgan
 

“Pillars”

This Fire in the desert night 
     Calls me,
        Stays me,
             Shows me.

The Clouds in the desert day 
      Lead me,
          Stop me,
              Guide me.

They are a ballet of flame and smoke.
       The more I watch them, the less form they have.
Just like when you stare at a painting until the colors blur,
          I see the fire spread and glow in places I had never looked before 
                and I see the clouds resting their shade over the people
         I have forgotten.

The form is a mystery, the call is clear.

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

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Green Times

Never stop praying and working for this day: “The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them.” (Isaiah 11:6)
 
God bless,
Morgan
 
 
“Green times”
 
A little boy with a red t-shirt and dark hair
climbs the gigantic old gun from the war,
fingers gripping bolts and sneakers squeaking on protruding metal corners
of this museum piece tucked in white concrete barracks
clustered inside a state park.
the boy swings from the long barrel back and forth,
curious and carefree, then drops into the grass and sprints away.
 
 
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Green times by Morgan Prettyman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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.

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