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.