Embarassed In Patriotic Prayer: Improv Free Verse

Today,
as I prayed,
and thanked God
for the Liberties that we have,
in this free and blessed land,
suddenly,
in my mind,
I saw all these Patriots,
young men and young women:
D-Day,
Korea,
the Revolutionary War,
the Civil War,
Vietnam,
the World Wars,
Iraq,
Afghanistan,
all the wars;
men and women
with body parts
blown apart,
some of them
disintegrating
into pink clouds,
laying down their lives
for the freedom
which we enjoy.

I realized,
at that moment,
how rarely I thank God
for their sacrifices.

I was ashamed to know
I did not,
have not,
and sometimes still
do not
bend my knees
and bow my head
every morning
and every evening
in gratitude for them
and their sacrifices,
and from the bottom of my soul
thank Him for them,
these young men and young women
who don’t even know me,
who died just because
they were doing their Duty.

In shame and anguish
I wept,
and I wished to God
that He could call a great convention
of those Heroes,
gather them all together
and announce,
in a voice of thunder,
from His Holy Throne:
“Dave Kuhns is sorry
that he was a schmuck,
that he had forgotten
to thank them.”

I don’t know
that they will ever know,
from the depths of my heart,
how much honor
and respect
and appreciation
that I have for them,
as I look out on my land,
my free land,
and for the liberties
and the bounties
that I have here.

I have never said
“Thank you!”
to that vast and gallant throng,
but now,
weeping in shame and gratitude
I bow my head,
and beg forgiveness
for me overlooking them,
and tell those valiant Patriots:
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”

Close Not The Door Piano: ImproVerse Free Verse

When she plays piano
down the hall,
often she closes the door
so I can’t hear
or be distracted.

Tonight, though,
the door is wide open
as she caresses keys,
improv,
a Church hymn
about space and time
travel.

Each note
takes space
and hangs in the hallway
timeless,
for an eternity,
and I feel myself,
with her,
wrapped in the notes
like a robe
we can share.

As she crosses hands
and moves fingers,
does she know
how that music
(and knowing the words)
fills my head,
my heart,
my soul,
with visions of we,
us,
being there,
in eternal mansions?

Does she feel
that she wants to be
enfolded
with me
for time
and all eternity?

Dear God:
Please let it be so,
that when we are old
and come to dust,
she and I can still hold hands
and sing notes
about
No end
to beauty;
No end
to Love;
No beginning
nor end;
No death above.

Please let us
be so joined
as we hie toward
Your mansion
somewhere good,
in Kolob’s neighborhood.

Finding Orion And Ourselves – Blogging Free Verse

A young friend spoke today
a memory,
when he was lost and alone
in a strange and distant land.

Looking up,
far and away from home,
he saw thousands of stars.
And then, three.

Orion’s belt,
the Hunter,
just like in the sky
of his Georgia home.

Finding Orion,
no longer lost,
he felt safe,
secure,
protected,
and grateful
for the awareness.

His faithful memory
gave me
my own recollections
of finding Orion:
Diamonds hung
on a canyon wall.

That deep southern Utah night
was the first time
(at least that I recall),
but there have been many more
since then.

My first night
in my new Deep South home,
I stepped out
onto my back porch.
I was alone.

In this new place,
nervous and unfamiliar,
I breathed the gathering gloom,
sucked in the dank humors,
and looked heavenward.

There he was,
belt strongly girded,
Orion, the Hunter over me.
“Hello, old friend!” I shouted
and wept for gladness
and relief.

Next,
alone with family,
a celebration
in the South Pacific
with my son
and his new bride.

Late at night,
I waded into Moorea’s
unfamiliar warm waters,
leaned back
and looked up.

Surprise!
Orion the mighty Hunter
was there, but
standing on his head!
I still, again,
waved and shouted:
“Hello, old friend!”
and laughed for joy.

(I hadn’t yet heard
Moana: Aue, aue
Te fenua, te malie
Na heko hakilia, 
but when I did,
lost yet not
with my daughter
on our aue way
to a paradise waterfall,
I wept again,
just like now.)

As wisdom from the pulpit spoke,
I realized:
The bearded one
was right.
God is aware.
Always.
And He lets us know.

We might feel lost.
We might forget
who we are,
where we are going,
what we’re about.

But He who is mighty to save
will let us know,
always,
where we are,
always,
who we are,
always,
that we are watched over,
always,
if we look to the Heavens.

Guilty Of Less Love: IMprov Free Verse Lament

Deep in church,
that moment when
you realize:

Your heart is so filled
with frustration
and anger
and I-wanna-pull-my-hair-out!
toward the world
and those who might disagree
with you
that you forget
to love Jesus Christ
and you forget
to love others
and you forget
to share His love
with others.

Sadness.
Refocus.
Then resolve.
Then do.

Perfect God Is Not A Perfectionist: ConTEXTing Free Verse

My wife posted this on her Facebook yesterday:

‘I created something today and was grappling over whether it was good enough. . David responded, “It’s good enough… why do you think it has to be perfect? Do you think God is a perfectionist?”
“Probably,” I replied.
“No, He’s not. He can’t be… He created us.”
Touche!’

After I thought about it, I changed my mind and wrote this free verse:

Because God IS
just
perfect,
He made us
perfectly
imperfect,
so we can learn
and grow
and become.

Christian Boundary Edict – Free Verse Rant

No!
You may not
crash at our house,
hang out with us,
sit by us,
or take my wife out
to lunch.

You had your shot.
I’m setting boundaries.
Do you hear?
No means NO!

I’m trying to be
a good and kind
Christian.
You’re making it
very difficult.