against everything
with anger, pride,
and new found intellectualism
Suffering humbled me
and rejection colored me
While pain
and misunderstanding
buffeted me
to find myself
embracing
the oppressed
and the oppressor
and checking my mouth
before I scream and yell
to walk in peace
Become a prophet,
poet and artist
To hug boldly,
trust deeply
and show love
to the fringe and
marginalized farthest
But maybe
a reimagining and
a dream of progressive
Pentecostalism and
Mainline ecumenism
The bapticostal misfit
Contemplative mystic
Jesus freak
But less in word
And more in deed
Hear my prayers
And be my strength
To find You everywhere
From the cathedral
to the street
-Bec Cranford
The Four Seasons
Spring
Silence,
heavy-laden and sharp -
"You need to see a doctor."
"I don't know if we can afford it!"
Blankets, pillows, askew,
dusty blinds cough each morning.
Summer
White,
a canvas of past and future -
worn with a stethoscope,
carried in a bottle,
emerge in a pharmacy.
Flip-flop, flip-flop squeaks
on a vinyl floor toward
Autumn
Gold,
gleaming on clouds' edge -
silver-edged and surrounded
by a quilt of blue
a puff of breath,
and the chill
of the air is apple-sweet.
Winter
Carols,
flung here, sung there -
the snow is welcomed
with a scarf and carrot nose,
It is a chance she
never thought she had.
-Kelsey Shaver
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