Saturday, December 20, 2008

I Did Not Die, The Plea

I am a spiritual man, live a serious life. I was taught that I, as a recovering alcoholic man, do not have a choice. Sometimes my poetry will reflect this.

I Did Not Die

Why do you chase me?
All I did, not important.

Walk among the groves
As I do, catch the bronze sun
Rays dancing through God's green leaves.

Do not feed me. I am past,
Solemn, ancient, an antique.
See my long gray beard.


How many of us have asked God to show Himself? I know that many alcoholics on the edge of getting sober will demand that God do something. The stories of what happens next are various. God either does or does not show Himself and yet how that happens leads these people to get sober long enough to tell their stories.

Sometimes I am sure that I don't really write these poems but instead transcribe them, channel them. I am not sure why it used to take me at least several hours to write poems and now often only fifteen minutes, even less, like they already have been written and only need be remembered.

The Plea

Oh God! Show Yourself!
But who am I to ask this?
I stand isolate.

Beneath the crest of this hill
I kneel and raise gnarly arms
As if a stripped tree,
As if a long cloudy sky,
As if no longer.


  1. Hi, Christopher! I've been on another whirlwind trip...catching up. Now I can take a breath to enjoy reading your work. When did I become such a traveler? And why?

    Well, enough of that. I enjoy all of the poems, and these are especially strong. Yes, you're right. You are getting stronger and stronger in your writing (I guess we all do). "The Plea" hits me on an emotional level, which is good. And "I Did Not Die" is also very strong. That one makes me think of a friend who has been through a similar situation. Very beautiful lines. Thanks for posting!

  2. Julie, thanks for your visit and your kind words.

    We are socked in. No travel here. Not for me, anyway.

    For I Did Not Die I sort of had a vision of a wandering teacher in mind, one who admonishes that I should not mistake his finger pointing for the moon that he points to.

    There is hope in The Plea. I feel the response is just offstage in this poem. As I wrote elsewhere in these blogs, it is thematic in German theology that God Who Answers Prayers is too essential a name of God. Thus if I am so rapt as to change myself into a gnarled tree reaching to heaven and get no answer, then that God is a lesser god and must be discharged in favor of a God Who Will Answer.

    Of course, God answers on His terms and thus the need I have for shape changing at the least...or else I have not the capacity to receive. This is not a matter of purity necessarily though that is the commonly declared shape of the vessal which contains God's answer.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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