hungry

we gorge on anger,

feed at the bitter buffet,

chug bottles of bile,

never realizing that

we are starving for mercy.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

in

in cold, scary caves,
in open-hearted neighbors,
in relieving pain,
in free school supplies for kids,
we serve by your side, O God.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

the radar shows

with the same forecast
for angry and bitter words
in the coming days,
we could use a few pop-up
showers of hope, peace, and grace.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

camper

you strike the Spirit
against our hard-as-flint hearts,
in hopes that a spark
will ignite our dried-up grace
into compassion for all.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

no lines

meanwhile, you wait for

someone to show up for your

Let’s-Build-Some-Hope sale.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

summer walk

we take a daily stroll
through the flowing fields of fear
and hire landscapers
to tend our gardens of doubt,
ignoring creation’s gifts.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

what the world needs now

it is so easy

to hate evil in our world,

yet seems difficult

to love good so deeply we

can’t help but give it away.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

 

finger play

we are so busy
jabbing fingers at others
when we could be
pointing to the One who longs
to reconcile the broken.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

balloon man

Jesus walks the streets
of the kingdom, bouquets of
Spirit-filled balloons
in his hands, ready to give
one to each person he meets.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

teller

at the scheduled time,
with our shopping list in heart,
we crank out prayers,
when all we want is God to
tell us who we really are
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

when

God’s grace flows freely,
hope walks through fear-littered streets,
peace bridges divides,
twisted justice is straightened,
when we love, when we love, when . . .
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

slated

the world has scribbled
our lives with fear and anger,
but you cleanse our souls,
so that, tabula rasaed,
you may write grace in large print.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

abyss

from the back of life,

you continue to push us

closer to the edge

we dread, till we have no choice

but to step into wonder.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

hesed

when friends drift away,

when family loses us,

when angry bombast

sticks a foot out to trip us,

caritas non deficit*

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

*love never falls away

hemmed in

when we place our faith
in all our fears and worries,
we become too scared
to reach out and touch the hem
of your embracing goodness.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

ire

anger entices us
with slow-burning songs of gall
and impatient rage,
but you delight in those whose
good nature comforts the hurt.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

bee

in life’s spelling bee,
too often humility
is rendered hubris,
and grace easily misspelled
with reed following the G.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

author

sometimes my life seems
an easily rhymed poem,
but mostly it is
a cut-and-paste job of an
ancient text lacking vowels.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

summer showers

convinced of our certainty,
we drive full speed through life,
and as grace begins
to fall gently against our souls,
we turn on the wipers
to brush it aside.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

now

now, Lord, don’t let us
wrap the Separated Ones
in day-old papers,
like we have the Homeless Ones
and the kids who starve each day.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

zero

when we are silent,

families are torn apart,

fear-slingers talk loose,

there is zero tolerance

for compassion, hope, and grace.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

cut from the same cloth

believing the Word

is found in every person,

we value each one,

yet ignore the rock, tree, air

brought forth by that very Word.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

monday, monday

its Monday, Monday,

and as we craft what to-do,

if sharing justice,

offering mercy, and love

are not the list - start over!

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

pieces

we should not treat folks
like old pennies we don’t use,
or redundant parts,
but as essential pieces
we need solving life’s puzzle.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

seedless

seems your words are a
rationale for cruelty,
or angry responses,
and thus, they become weapons
rather than seeds of justice.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

omgf

Jon facing chemo,
Jill heading to her third job,
kids torn from parents,
while so many celebrate,
for some - OMGFriday!

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

you

in coming moments
and those already misplaced,
in gentle silence
and table conversation,
we will find a presence – you.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

wholly, too

in the person who

takes a neighbor to chemo,

reads with little ones,

and shares veggies with food banks,

we meet the holiest saints.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

wholly

in the little child

who takes delight in puddles,

playing make believe,

and spinning in wide circles,

we meet the holiest saint.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

rummage sale

each day, you set out
‘free for the taking’ tables
groaning with the gifts
we need – hope, peace, laughter, grace –
but we just keep driving past.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

family

help me to see the
illustrated teenager,
the crabby neighbor,
the anger-slinging bozo
as folks i am to embrace.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

jabbok

after arm-wrestling

with your hope-filled dreams for us

time and time again,

we walk away with a limp

in our hearts you know too well.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

when you pray

sitting inside my
comfort zone so i can pray,
i am protected
from your drenches of grace, and
the bracing breeze of justice.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

ammas and abbas

holy ones are not
two-dimensional stained glass
figures, but those who
welcome rough sleepers as friends
and learn from the forgotten.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

holy ground?

seeking holy ground,
we might want to remember
it is the place where
clay-footed folk take off shoes
to walk where garbage is thrown.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

forgive us . . .

to be forgiven
is to be willing to live
with that word of grace
offered by the one who sets
down any and all grudges.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

as we forgive . . .

in forgiving, we
choose to share in God’s nature,
whose weakness is grace.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

hineni

you call us, O Lord,
to listen to hope’s whispers
but how can we hear,
surrounded by angry talk
and our fears raging within?
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

nocturne

in the middle of the night
when our loneliness is wide awake,
you curl up next to our heart,
your peace purring softly
      to our souls,
till we fall back to sleep.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

and then

and then, there are those
people we think we don’t need
or have to care for
since they offend us so much;
Lord, in your mercy, change us.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman  

just ask

thinking we need to

pry forgiveness from your grasp,

we grab any thing

we can use for leverage,

while we only need to pray.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

click it

your faithfulness is

the seatbelt which protects us

when we crash head-on

against the foolish choices

we play chicken with in life.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

every moment

each day, make kindness
for the most vulnerable
our laus perennis
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman
 
laus perennis is perpetual or continuous prayer

 

this day

remind us, O God,
that while someone’s daily bread
might not be what we
imagine they should have, it
is precisely what they need.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Trinity

God the thunder shaker,
   you whisper to us
   in the hushed awe
      of children
   watching lightning streak
      across the sky;
Jesus the injustice breaker,
   you call to us
      in the whimpers of the bullied,
      in the songs of protestors,
      in the lullabies of parents
         sung through border walls;
Spirit the risk taker,
   you invite us
      to share peace instead of anger,
      to shawl the hateful in grace,
      to forgive when fists are
         waved in our faces.

God   Jesus   Spirit

shake us out of our apathy,
break us with your compassion,
take us into the hearts of those around us.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

always

we circle in place,
we fall at the starting line,
yet every time, you
whisper, ‘I’m coming to help,’
and that you do, every time.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

finally, friday

Think for a moment how

Grace might just be the missing

Ingredient to turn around a

Friend’s journey into loneliness.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

thump day

we lie cracked after

hitting the well-known wall, yet

like thumpty dumpty,

you pick us up, and by grace,

put us together again.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

cling wrap

like a plastic bag

in full sail across a lot,

the Holy Spirit

smacks up against us, hoping

we will not push her away.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Pentecost Tuesday

come, Holy Spirit, come
on days made soggy with tears;
come, Holy Spirit, come
to teach new dance steps to all
who are blessed with two left feet.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

post Pentecostal blues

on the day after Pentecost,
we spend the morning
picking out confetti lodged
   in the sanctuary carpet,
explaining to the fire marshal
   why the alarms kept going off,
folding the banners away for another year,
and tightening the windows
against the breeze that
keeps rattling our souls.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

loved

in the eyes
   that never look away;
in the hands
   that catch me every time;
in the heart
   that will always love me,
I am,
more than I will ever
   comprehend.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

cleanup

garbed in a bright yellow vest
with a trash bag in hand,
you walk the roads of the world
picking up the sins we throw
out the windows of our lives,
to recycle them into grace.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

faith

when the world’s wild storms

have knocked down all the signposts

and landmarks we know,

you are walking by our side,

holding our hearts as they break.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

contemplative

helping a child read,
walking with a frail grandpa,
breathing hope for others,
may these simple acts become
my hesychastic prayer.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

wandering

we lose our bearings,
so you teach us to use grace
as our true compass.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

which word?

we focus so much
on who we must say ‘no’ to,
we miss offering
the ‘yes’ which will simply give
the life, hope, grace which they need.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

faith

when the deep shadows
of the dark night of the truth
tighten around us,
faith reminds us of the One
who walks with us to the light.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

mother

you bandage skinned knees
and comfort hope-broken souls;
you gather us up
to tell us stories of grace;
God our mother, we praise you.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

saint

in the little girl
preparing meals for neighbors,
we find today’s saint.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

school zone

God the traffic guard,

you step into sin’s fast flow,

holding up that sign

with GRACE emboldened on it,

as we safely head to life.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

ascension

on this day, we ask
‘is this now when justice comes
or should we wait?’
and urging us, you reply,
‘don’t look at me; it’s your time.’
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

teachable

less of us equals
more for others in your math,
O God our Teacher!

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

following Jesus

discipleship is
   that stillness poised in the midst of chaos,
   a pause taken before speaking,
   peace walking through the violence,
   the passion to challenge injustice,
   patient enough to learn from others.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

foodies

opportunities

abound to have groceries

delivered to us,

and so, food deserts will grow.

Lord, have mercy, have mercy.

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

hope

in the helplessness
of the cross, we discover
the hope we don’t have
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

roots

rooted in stillness,
we can grow into those lives
where justice blossoms.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

just like riding a bike

training wheels in place,
you walk by our side, your hand
soft on our shoulders,
keeping your eyes wide open
as we learn to ride through life.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

words2

words can be bullies,
or repairers of deep pain –
which will we speak now?
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

dictionary

when success is defined,
it does not involve a cross
or serving others.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

be careful

being with Jesus
may mean hanging out with those
we just cannot stand.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

words

we remain close-mouthed
while the outsiders are mocked,
yet expect you to
speak up for us whenever
we need a kind word offered.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

vineyard

as long as you come

like that gently climbing vine,

we have no problem being branches,

but when you come like kudzu,

your passion for justice and hope

threatening to eat away our apathy,

well, hell . . .

 

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

birding

like a birdwatcher
still and silent through the hours,
we wait in prayer
for you to swoop into view,
hope floating on Spirit’s breath.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

bumbershoot

like an umbrella,
in the drizzle of our lives,
your grace shelters us.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

attention, please

we spend so much time
watching events turning, we
miss you showing up.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

grumbled

grumbled by the news,
i could curl up with outrage,
or join you outside,
following Grace where she leads,
splashing in wonder’s puddles.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

tanka 3

Spring slowly creeps in
with drips of liquid wonder,
while grace bursts open
our frozen lives, warming us
with bright rays of hope and peace.

(c) 2018 Thom M. Shuman

monday

folding the paper,
you pick up your guitar, and
start to play the blues.




(c) 2018 Thom M. Shuman

tanka 2

though older than dirt,
creation might continue
to dazzle us with
imaginative joy, if
we kept privilege at bay.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

tanka 1

early each morning,
we awaken to find you,
eyes like slits, staring
deep into our soul, purring
like a kitten on our chest.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

walkabout

for that silence
speaking louder than any
thoughts and prayers,
we give thanks.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

street people

if we viewed folks as
gyrovagues, not panhandlers,
would our attitude change?

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

(gyrovagues – wandering monks who

relied on charity/hospitality of others)

twilight

may your hope be the
garlic we use to ward off
all the faith vampires.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

goalie

as hate’s puck streaks
toward our souls,
reach out with your
grace-padded hands
to keep it from scoring.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

cafeteria

sarabitically,
we push our trays
down the line, filling
   our lives with
   all the thoughts,
   people, words
which satisfy our fancies,
rather than sticking to the
basic faith groups of
grace, hope, love, peace,
   and wonder.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

ouch

like a boomerang,
a mean spirit comes back to
smack us in the faith.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

missing

of all the
      things
   in this cocktail
   we are (or
      (could be),
hope
may be the
missing ingredient.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

crisis

Lord, have

mercy when

aggro
   is the addiction
   we cannot control, but
hope
   is the resolution
   we break so easily.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

helpers

when our hearts
are shattered,
you pull up
in your truck
clearly marked
‘recovery and restoration
     of all kinds
(faith our specialty)’
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

hot bath

stepping into that
steamy tub
filled with your presence,
   may I soak in
   your grace
until i am completely
   relaxed.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

just

unless living
      justly
is the result, just
   praying
is a heart full
of hollow words.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

evening

having shuttered all the
      windows, and
locked all the doors,
we sit silently
in the shadows of our fears,
      forgetting
you are a graduate of
Spirit’s school of
lockpicking.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

Spirit Holmes

early
in the morning,
you shake us awake,
      whispering,
‘quick, justice is afoot!
don’t say a word, just
follow
and do what it does.’
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

 

miraculous

when we
forgive others,
give so more will have,
love the despised,
then we
will have become
miracle workers.
 
© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

des(s)erts

after enjoying (several) desserts
at the end of a great dinner, we
drive home,
never noticing
the food deserts
along the way . . .

in your mercy, Lord

(c) 2018 Thom M. Shuman

hump day

as i open
my mouth (without
      saying any words),
pray in me, Jesus,
as you carry me into
God's heart

(c) 2018 Thom M. Shuman

blueprints

technicalities,
schmechnicalities –
let us embrace
the promise of resurrection,
grace pure and simple.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman

bright monday

on the second day,
we put you back in the tomb,
rolling the stone shut.

© 2018 Thom M. Shuman