246 Spiritual poems

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold:— Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow men." The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blest, And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

I keep a small altar on my dresser a candle a photo a stone from the river where i was baptized it's not about the objects it's about the looking the remembering to look

The old hymns use words nobody uses anymore which is part of why i love them they belong to another time a slower time a time that believed in the value of a long held note

Sunday i sit in the same pew where my mother sat and her mother before her the wood is worn smooth where hands have held on for a hundred years i hold on too

The spirit moves like wind you don't see it you see what it does the tree bending the curtain lifting the feeling in the room when someone starts to cry that's the spirit

Before the world starts i sit with god in the kitchen in the quiet it's not formal we don't need formal we've known each other for years