Note to the Shepherd

I never wanted to be
the bush, burning,
turning sorrow to ash,
flaming, naming
dark things with
embers and light.
It takes so much
to be rooted, give
my arms to ignite
a simple day, a blue-
black night.

I really liked Marcus's heretical poem. Then it got me thinking about what it means to actually be the burning bush. So of course I turned to poetry to work out my thoughts a little further. :)

Glynn's Sacred Sand
Karen's Not Me. I AM

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Blogger Laura said...

This one really makes me think. I never wanted to be the burning bush either...who does? I think of Moses and his speech impediment and I know my tongue gets tied around the flames, around the light I should be.

Love this.

Blogger Kathleen said...

bruised burning night
your light kindles
sparks our words to life
growing roots five feet deep
torch bush
stay aflame
light our way

Your poem made me think of what was written about Barnam: "Someone has to shoot a rocket, make it bright. Someone in short must start a fire"
It's your high calling. :)

Blogger Cassandra Frear said...

Like it! Yes, I do.

Blogger Kelly Langner Sauer said...

oh my.

do you live in my heart, I wonder sometimes.

oh my.

Blogger LarryG said...

when you are so near to the place where the shoes come off... the flame is spontaneous

lovely interpretation methinks

Blogger ELK said...

to be rooted . it does indeed take somuch

Blogger Missy K said...


Anonymous Maureen said...

Yours is a wonderful companion to the poem Marcus wrote. The simplicity of it makes its depth all the more powerful.

Kathleen, love your comment and that quote.

Blogger Claire said...


it moves within me and rustles about in the selfish places that need to be swept clean.

Blogger S. Etole said...

I like this and the different poems that have been birthed from it ...

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"a blue-
black night."

I can 'see' this! Nice capture there LL!


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