bedtime is Resurrection's story

climb up my knee swing off my back
up sleepy boy up on my lap
let my words plant dreams seeds
rhymed in tune and heroic deeds
train your eyes to see con-trast
to the faithless historian's past
the son of god went forth to war
already, not yet,won before
all power not chance of defeat
putting all things under his feet
That vision makes martyr's alloy
and builds sure strength in a little boy

remember as you lay back your head
Morning reminds He'll raise the dead
that is why we work all the day
though kingdoms and earth should pass away
our labor in hope will emerge

through fire through funeral dirge
though armies march and men deceived.

laughing at suspense perceived,
He waits only for more glory
bedtime is Resurrection's story
don't fear tomorrow nor allay
when we sleep He will have His way

little Christians sleep the best

unless a child none can enter His rest
so when skies grow dark, full of rain
hum with me "who follows in his train?"

I love Wendell Berry

Here is a taste. there will be more to come.

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.

And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.

When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.
So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.

Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.

Listen to carrion -- put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.

Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.

As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go.

Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry

The Grace on the ground

Grace is to touch the ground
the cursed soon to be bound
thistles all my garden shows
untiled crust solid baulking
stone broken by mustard seeds
the root of jesse proceeds

Sower sow and gardner tend
Leave the tears until the end
Damning and through Redeeming
Judge all the human scheming
shepherd guide, time to conquer
lion-lamb led to slaughter

Infinity for point space
creator in tax man's place
creatio ex nihilo
forging the atoms and light
new dawn, but spoken rises
slow without compromises
relentless darkness gnawing
glory to glory thawing

Sower sow and gardner tend
Leave the tears until the end
Damning and through Redeeming
Judge all the human scheming
shepherd guide, time to conquer
lion-lamb led to slaughter

in sudden clamped lip silence
under world's arm's defiance
a glimpse two millenia
in history's momentum
He will enter not decay
accepting flesh's tether
to eat with us together

breathlessness and loss of speech

heard the sounds that sputter from my dumb lips
rolling down my cheek, dripping from my jaw
off of a thought spinning floating glancing
the drifting wind swung them to right to wrong
contrast in thirty words compare it all
the wedding in the slow music of fall
with my quick breath, to my throat, from my tongue
shame the dark word's harsh consonants
read aloud lover's lyrics, forgetting
those uncertain marks, our first father's fall
wait on hopes ellipse roots consuming all
but my words are orange turning leaves
heavy hanging against winter pressing
I only cling by your force in last stand
for renewed strength or for eagles soaring
make me as spain's moss, seasons unknowing
always clinging to centuries fastened
teach me the creed fading into this choir
brother, as long as they call this today