Such Knowledge (Psalm 139:6)

Such Knowledge (Psalm 139:6)

By Jonathan Bennett

John, still warm in his mother's womb, leapt up;
Joseph took unto himself one with child;
Zechariah prophesied while naming;
    Such knowledge was too wonderful for them.


Elisabeth was honored by a guest;
Anna prophesied of His redemption;
And Mary, Mary pondered in her heart;
    Such knowledge was too wonderful for them.


But what of myself in this season,
Am I moved as such by the old story?
Do I truly comprehend who He is?
    Is such knowledge too wonderful for me?

Watching, By Night

Watching, By Night

By Jonathan Bennett

Bundled in coat and gloves or barefoot in the grass,
I stand beneath the past, unfolded like a map,
Tracing the boundaries of celestial nations.
I observe in cold, still or humid evening air.
I watch as battles begin, end, and rage anew;
I see foretellings of kings rising, falling, and born
As their heralds travel along this starry grid.
And I listen, beneath the howl of winter's wind
Or over chorus of summer's nocturnal choir,
To hear the song that shepherds heard: watching, by night.

Decrease

Decrease

By Jonathan Bennett

It sounds humble, and they believe it is;
Because, I'm the God-talker, one chosen
To be, somehow, unlike, to be holy
And beyond such green envy jealousy.
Maybe they need me to be. To be a
Hero they can emulate but, likely,
I'll just be an ideal that's an excuse.
What I should say: He makes me retch, rage,
And want to sit back waiting for him to
Fail, for the cheers to turn to angry chants
Just before the crowd humbles him just like
His Presence has humiliated me.

Parade

Parade

By Jonathan Bennett

I missed the balloon passing overhead,
Mistaking its shadow and shivering;
Because, I was pushing through the thick crowd
In my hope of finding a better view.


Horns and beats and brass buttons glittering
Moved past with clowns and floats before, behind.
Marching, dancing, waving to catch my eye
That was focused—too intent—on the end.


Now everyone's gone home. The brooms whisper,
Brushing up the remains of the parade
That culminated in my heart's desire.
Yet, now, curbside I await another.

Planing

Planing

By Jonathan Bennett

His hands on mine, I hold the plane tight
And try to press my eighty-plus pounds
Down to hold the metal flat against
An old scrap of lumber lying around.
At his word I push hard as I can,
And can't raise a splinter from its skin
Until he adds his strength: older, skilled.
And a curl appears through the blade hole
Turning in on itself to spiral,
Which he takes out at the end and says,
"There, that's pretty good for a first one."
Then drops it with the other shavings
And lifts the plane to start again.

Hunter’s Moon

Hunter's Moon

By Jonathan Bennett

Predawn wake-up and into warm clothing
With coffee, poured, insulated, in hand
Before stepping under winter night, stars.
Heavy soles crunching drought-parched, fallen leaves
Revealing me to darkness and her ears
Until, reaching a place that's all prepared,
Silence and with the universe fading,
The stillness and the waiting now begins.
Head and eyes turn and search the baited earth
For the moving branch. Ears sharp for footfalls
As a north wind blows, provides a decoy
(a distraction to help keep the secret,
Or a test to see if I am ready?)
And out of one corner I note the pass
Of full moon behind nearly naked trees
Marking sunrise start of another day
Of watching for the object of my hunt--
A trophy as proof these wilderness hours
Were not time wasted or actions in vain.
Sun turning frost to vapor, I resist
Reacting—bagging the first sighted prey,
Which, though promising a day's contentment,
Would leave me, come tomorrow, wondering.
As the morning becomes noon, I stand, walk
Tossing away secrecy by sunlight,
And I hear behind the rustle of leaves,
Feel the weight of hidden eyes behind me.
Walking on, toward a temporary home,
I wonder if I am hunter or prey.

Jack

Jack

By Jonathan Bennett

Leaves fall and blow around the Jack I've lit
At the top of the drive upon this hill
In hopes of warding away anyone
Familiar who is out there wandering
In the growing—for months more growing—night
From coming up, knocking upon the door,
Slipping through the screen-holes with the chill wind
To slip into bed or creep down the stairs:
A presence reminding what was not said.

Midway

Midway

By Jonathan Bennett

It was the barker's voice that drew me in—
Playing a game I should have known was fixed—
With no promises of kewpie doll win.
One voice pricked my ears, made me turn aside
And, what, prove myself worthy of the game
With my girl standing there, cheering beside?
So I played his game, went on all the rides
Until, overstuffed, we made our way home
And searched in the dark for a misplaced prize.

The Return

The Return

By Jonathan Bennett

Season's change with screens on the window
And chilly morn wrapped around my mug
As I unpack mothballed coverings
That help me assume my old shape, role
I was sure, once, I'd not don again.
But the fit hasn't changed even if
Something should have while I was away.

Canning

Canning

By Jonathan Bennett

Sunset. The air through the screens turns colder,
Chilling the sun-warmed tile beneath my feet.
I set one more upon the shelf against
The lengthening night. Come spring these meager
Stores may seem a feast if winter is mild,
But, all the same, we may grow hungry 'fore
The hard weather begins. Yet I will not
Let what little we have reaped go to waste.

By Autumn Light

By Autumn Light

By Jonathan Bennett

Because it's all too familiar, just like
After toast and coffee reality
Is accepted more than the vivid dream
And by sundown even the memory
Is forgotten. But I recall planting,
Tending, praying for rain amidst the drought
When I almost lost hope there would be growth.
And now, look, try and find where the hard ground
Has been broken open, or tiny tracks
Of thieves who stole away with scattered seed.
Because all that is lit by autumn light
Disperses summer like dreams, and reveals
Reality too familiar to me.

Ring

Ring

By Jonathan Bennett

Apart again on the day
we came together, I write
alone in my tower room.


Bob begs for faith in his "Proof"
As I search for words that say
How one more year has changed us


When there are days I don't know
The man you were bound unto.
And I've no idea if he


Is the better man or I.
But it is his ring, though dull,
That catches light on my hand


As I reach, cut off your light
And slip to dream of strangers
Who, in love, transform to us.

Prayer: A Poem for Trinity Sunday

Prayer: A Poem for Trinity Sunday
By Jonathan Bennett


Across my table is just the One
But I know they're all there, listening;
Though, I've not set enough cups for three.


It's only in hints—a corner eye,
A touch of accent—that tells me One
Is not the only voice that replies.


And the yous and theys and he and she
Matters less than sitting and talking
To One who's been, awaited, and in.

The Beginning

The Beginning
By Jonathan Bennett


And in a moment, everything had changed.
His feet continued to trouble the dust
Though the print left behind was no longer the same.
The Word-Made-Flesh was, for them, Word again
To be enfleshed by those taking within.
Living fire in Him became part of them,
But flesh cannot contain the burning joy.
The fire was unleashed and its spread began.
And by its guiding light we can find Him.

Wind and Fire

Wind and Fire
By Jonathan Bennett


If I close my eyes when I feel the wind
I can imagine your touch on my skin.
It is not the same as having you here.
The wind that comes to wrap itself 'round me
Cannot comfort me as well as your arms.
But if I inhale the wind like a breath
It's as if I'm taking you inside me.
And I'm not alone because you are here.
We have become one, whole and complete.
As I breathe I begin to understand
That the bowels of the tomb remain vacant,
That I have not been abandoned by

      You.

If I close my eyes when I feel the fire
I can remember warmth from touching you.
It's not the same as lying 'gainst you.
But I can feel your fire within me,
Burning as I could feel it from your breast.
And when we speak it's as if the fire spreads
Igniting you in everyone list'ning.
And it's as if you were here with me
But not only one but hundreds of you
With arms like yours, with hearts beating like yours.
There is a new beginning in this fire,
A fire I can kindle with just your
                                                  Word.

Ascent(ion)

Ascent(ion)
By Jonathan Bennett


They left us just as He left us, long ago
(Perhaps that is why "Tricky Dick" confused them);
Though, their return was scheduled, and His unknown.
But maybe I can stretch the analogy:
As each went from their own world to a lesser—
One in crescent shadow, the other the Form.
But the three returned along a narrow way,
And we are still looking, still waiting for Him.

Flesh and Word

Flesh and Word
By Jonathan Bennett


In the ending, there are only your words.
No arms that can embrace me when I reach;
No body to rest mine against at table.
Only words spoken as you left me, us,
Which are already lost on evening's breath.
And this, in your great wisdom, should suffice?
Can these words heal me when I have fallen
Into the dusty earth to be trampled.
Can they show the love I've seen in your eyes
When I left fam'ly and friend far behind?
Can mere words touch me the same as your hands
When the Night comes again to surround?
                                                                 No.


You have abandoned the one who you loved.
This time there'll be no empty sepulcher,
No news astonishing from the women.
You have gone to sit in some paradise
Where no high mountain, no ladder can reach.
You cursed me for timeless separation
Until you decide to return again.
And you never said a word of goodbye.
You have deprived me of my heart's desire,
The only presence I have ever craved.
You have left me longing with only words
That, somehow, are to take the place of
                                                             You.

Emmaus

Emmaus
By Jonathan Bennett


We were walking together, close and far,
Still so sad on that after-Sabbath day.
In conversation we talked of these things
As our bare feet disturbed the dusty earth.
The road is often full of travelers
But the strangers still stand out like Gentiles.
So it was with this man who drew up close
Looking like fair Dionysus, the vine.
Ignorant, he was, of all the past week,
And we knew he was not part of The Way.
We told the story of the bloody end
That had been witnessed three days in the past.
Derisively we told him of the tales
We had heard before setting out this morn
That certain of the women had crafted
In league with some of those closest to him.
And then, at the end of these tales, he laughed
As though there was humor in our sorrow.
And, laughing, he said to us awful words:
"Did you think it could end another way
That such a man could die of age alone?
Even with your prophets' words in your heart,
Were you surprised at how he met his end?
Did you think lesser love would have sufficed?
Knowing the blood shed on this holy earth,
Would anything less than blood been required?"
So we pondered his words as we walked on
In silence, 'til we came to Emmaus
Where the stranger wanted to pass on by.
But even had come and he was a guest
Whom we begged to come and abide with us.
At table we dined and felt hearts lifted,
By the guest or his words we cannot say.
And at the appointed time he took bread,
And held it to Heaven as he blessed it,
And before our eyes he broke it for us.
We saw then the ram caught in the thicket,
Moses' serpent in the desert held high.
We saw One anointed before all time
Bearing wounds beneath the crown on His head.
We did not know or do not remember
When He left us sitting at the table
But that Bread continues to sustain us.

Rapture

Rapture
By Jonathan Bennett


Awake, near dawn, and He is on my mind.
Out of bed, by the window, listening
For His feet on my path, knock at my door,
So I might hear Him say my name again.
Discalced I would run into His arms
As I did when the ground was wet with dew
And ascend as he raptures me to Him.

tu scis quia amo te

tu scis quia amo te
By Jonathan Bennett


Why do you ask what you already know?
Three years, but do you doubt 'cause of one night?
Are all the miles we've walked forgotten so?
All those calluses erased by my flight?


Why do you ask when my eyes are so plain?
I've filled this sea every night since then.
Is void now all that flowed through heart and vein
Replaced by the black bile of that one sin.


Why do you ask? Oh. Oh now I can see
Answers like this morning light breaking through.
Even when fear caused me to run, to flee
I was then being drawn closer to You.

Resurrection

Resurrection
By Jonathan Bennett


And in a moment, all was joy again.
The conquered Sun emerged, resurrected,
From the tomb vanquished to by old foe Night.
And the grass felt His footprints upon them,
And the flowers felt His gentle caress,
And the birds awoke in their high refuge
To announce in song to a sleeping earth:
Darkness and her armies are defeated,
Wake up! Wake up! the Light has come again.

Holy Saturday 2009

Holy Saturday 2009
By Jonathan Bennett


Fresh in my mind that last, loud exclamation
Of pain as the sword pierced my heart wounding me.
So deep, so deep that I cannot be the same
Even if I see him in the light of morning.


Fresh in my mind that last, loud exclamation
Of fear as my words reached my ears, deafn'ing me.
So loud, so loud that I cannot be the same
Even if I could say "I love you" again.


Fresh in my mind that last, loud exclamation
Of rage as I washed my hands of the moment.
So cold, so cold that I cannot be the same
Even if I knew his innocence was feigned.


Fresh in my mind that last, loud exclamation
Of greeting as I betrayed him in the night.
So quick, so quick I cannot be the same
Even if I were resurrected with him.


Fresh in my mind that first soft, exclamation
Of seeing him standing there in the dawn light.
So bright, so bright I cannot be the same
Even if I did not know I'd see him again.

Wisdom

Wisdom
by Jonathan Bennett


Come. Come in on wind, come in upon fire,
through locked door—my long-abandoned-gateway—
and draw close to let your breath fall on me.
Come and penetrate me; come enter me.


Take. Take me within your depths where these twins
wrestle, and peace clings at its sibling's heel
that for blindness I cannot tell apart.
Take hold and guide 'tween stillness and action.


Share. Share this journey that spreads out ahead,
wond'ring which child before should be our guide:
down the roads that call for contemplation,
and those that cry for transfiguration.

Finished

Finished
By Jonathan Bennett


The holy veil tore down its center,
But they sewed it, hiding the large rent.
And maybe they hid the wise things there
To keep them out of the children's hands.
Leaving us confused and at a loss
Except to see Your work as half-done.


The blind remain blind and the deaf deaf;
Though, there's a gadget that fakes Your touch.
The lame walk but only with crutches,
Last year's dead refuse to draw new breath,
And the poor have yet to hear good news.
Are you sure you didn't leave too soon?

Thirst

Thirst
By Jonathan Bennett

And I find myself thinking of the wine
At the last that was better than the first.
The thought of it should be bitter to me
But I remember only its sweetness,
Just as I remember the company
Gathered so close, though they've scattered from me.
And if the water was before me now
I'd transubstantiate it with my blood
And call for toasts at this: my wedding feast.
Today I die as one to become one,
And no one, here nor There, can make us two.
Yes in this last moment before we wed
Bring out the new wineskins because I thirst!

Awe

Awe
By Jonathan Bennett

Listen for the sound of that one voice crying for
Us to realize our lover, wrestler, friend, and foe
Who calls us to wonder that we are worth a thought
Even when we mortals are not mindful of them.

Look through eyes of one who cannot help seeing how
Precious we, the sparrow, fig tree, our neighbor are
Even as we price them, sell them in the market
Ignorant that we pay in currency of stars.

Feel the embrace of wind on naked flesh alone
While hands that touch and lips that kiss give a wide berth
As they turn their heads and stop their ears to your cries
Of mad passion's ecstasy from Spirit's rapture.

Whispers

Whispers    
By Jonathan Bennett
 My courage in these words? No just
    Whispers on a mountaintop,
Unexpected revelation
    Made bravely to strangers.
Whether it is world-changing rests
    Upon after descent.
If I can carry the message,
    Risk being beloved.
If I can resist temptation
    To shelter these words here—
Suspended somehow out of time
    Where none below will know
Then it might transform those I love,
    Though for good or ill?

Carnival (20 February 2007)

Carnival (20 February 2007)
By Jonathan Bennett

I've not been to the gravesite since summer
And see no reason to return today.
I have the tokens, the icons of him,
Which bring him closer than dirt, grass, and stone.
And it's come time again for ash crosses,
Though I've no need for mortal reminders.
So I contemplate skipping those forty,
Since I lived them for that and more last year.
I'm well aware of the frailty of flesh,
And have no need of my piece of burnt palm.
Instead I will tuck leaf into his pipe
And let its incense sanctify this fast
Imposed by the sad farewell to his flesh.

Epiphany's Last Light

Epiphany’s Last Light
(A poem of Transfiguration)
By Jonathan Bennett

Just when I thought I knew you
The light has come and I see anew.
Brilliance bathing you in starlight
Making night day, dazzling my sight.
How did I dare to imagine
To think I knew my friend?
Give God praise for it is right
For the epiphany held within His light.
Forever let me bask in, do not let stop
The moment out of time on this mountaintop.
Within this cloud let me remain
For after nothing, nothing in life will be the same.
But then comes the voice unlike any man’s,
Drink O eyes all this image you can.
For now the light is gone, the cloud depart
And I struggle so hard to remember who
thou truly art.

Quinquagesima

Quinquagesima
By Jonathan Bennett

But if we can together shelter,
Rebuild above us a roof,
Make a new place to live.
Then this torrent can be our ark.

Perhaps taking to our beds
And finding stolen the covers,
Will force us together for warmth
Naked and able, at last, to rest.

Maybe a literary washing
And a giving way of stains
So long, so long set in
Can help us begin again clean.

Consider that a little libation
Can loosen the tongue, letting words flow
And lead to some things spilling
While leaving room for more to imbibe.

And if by my gluttony
I leave the table fat
Then through my binge
Let there be room for us all to feast.