#covenant
The life of flesh is in the blood,
extracted to save the judged,
spilling wet upon the stones
in response to the throne.
Flesh penalties must be paid
when forgiveness demands a trade;
divine law will not relent
until the flesh is given to repent.
Obedience demands pain’s rigor,
forfeiting what’s dear and pure
upon the altars built by man
to satisfy his god’s demands.
Rituals erase man’s impurity,
trading damnation for surety;
the sacred life force must bleed
to seal the covenant belief’s decree.
A final forfeiture will express
submission, erasing transgress;
those who turn will be judged,
fealty demands sprinkled blood.
© 2026. Lynn Green. All Rights Reserved. 20260409.
Apr 9
Apr 9, 2026 at 10:15 AM UTC
sail on the wings of the clouds
where no one can touch.
For every sob of crying,
mixed with tears of joy!
release the energy of consciousness
in your daily practice of leaving,
be proud of the color of your change.
Say it brightly to the world and don't
hide
Be strong in the challenge of a friend.
Hold the flame in your hands.
Be weak in the call of love.
then look back at the fruit of your success
when oneself cross-over an alter-ego access !
Finding the *** of Gold
is just like the Star sold
© 3/15/26
Blessed Sunday
Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 11:59 AM UTC
Couplet 1
Thou art not Lord of Eternity — His Majesty alone prevails;
Thou art His servant only, His Light within thy soul entails.
Couplet 2
When in the vaulted realm of souls rang the sacred call, “Am I not your Lord?”
A blaze of covenant arose, Thy “Yes” the eternal accord.
Couplet 3
Upon the Tablet of Decree shines only His command;
Thou art witness to the cosmos, not master of His land.
Couplet 4
He is the First, the Last, the Manifest, the Hidden high;
Thou art but a mirror of His Light — His mercy lights thy sky.
Couplet 5
From dust He raised thee, honoured thee with trust sublime;
Thy spiritual self bears sacred weight — no sway, no claim, no time.
Couplet 6
If prostration breathe not the fire of love and awe divine,
Then standing veils the heart, and deeds obscure the sign.
Couplet 7
With the sword of the spiritual self, sever chains of ego and vain desire;
Yet know thy station — servant still beneath His boundless Fire.
Couplet 8
Each atom testifies to the One, the Sole, Eternal Light;
Thou art witness of the Covenant — not lord, not peer, nor might.
Couplet 9
Arise! Let thy spiritual self walk the chosen Prophet‘s shining way;
There lies perfection, there salvation, there the dawn of Day.
Couplet 10
Let every breath be surrender, every heartbeat glow with zeal;
Each step in truth be guided, every moment spirit’s seal.
Couplet 11
By the Love of God, shine through paths complete and grand;
Be witness to the secrets of the earth and sky at hand.
Couplet 12
If certainty’s flame ignite the dark within thy heart,
Then every breath is light, and every deed a sacred part.
Couplet 13
By the Divine Light let every station glow thy way;
Every breath, every step, every moment, love obey.
Couplet 14
Let thy spiritual self rise to the heavens, yet in God remain;
Every act, every spark, every flame, in His pleasure plain.
Feb 21
Feb 21, 2026 at 2:25 PM UTC
These are poems for the victims and survivors of the Nashville Covenant School shootings.
Nashville Covenant Call to Love
by Michael R. Burch
Our hearts are broken today
for our children's small bodies lie broken;
let us gather them up, as we may,
that the truth of our Love may be spoken;
then, when we have put them away
to nevermore dream, or be woken,
let us think of the living, and pray
for true Love, not some miserable token,
to command us, for strength to obey.
For a Nashville Covenant Child, with Butterflies
by Michael R. Burch
Where does the butterfly go
when lightning rails, when thunder howls,
when hailstones scream while winter scowls
and nights compound dark frosts with snow?
Where does the butterfly go?
Where does the rose hide its bloom
when night descends oblique and chill
beyond the capacity of moonlight to fill?
When the only relief's a banked fire's glow,
where does the butterfly go?
And where shall the spirit flee
when life is harsh, too harsh to face,
and hope is lost without a trace?
Oh, when the light of life runs low,
where does the butterfly go?
Frail Envelope of Flesh
by Michael R. Burch
Frail envelope of flesh,
lying cold on the surgeon’s table
with anguished eyes
like your mother’s eyes
and a heartbeat weak, unstable ...
Frail crucible of dust,
brief flower come to this—
your tiny hand
in your mother’s hand
for a last bewildered kiss ...
Brief mayfly of a child,
to live nine artless years!
Now your mother’s lips
seal up your lips
from the Deluge of her tears ...
Epitaph for a Nashville Covenant Student
by Michael R. Burch
I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
As springs’ budding blossoms emerge
the raptors glide mercilessly.
—Michael R. Burch
I wrote this haiku-like poem on 3-27-2023 after the Nashville Covenant school shooting massacre.
This poem is for mothers who lost children at Nashville Covenant and in other similar tragedies...
Childless
by Michael R. Burch
How can she bear her grief?
Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight
Of one fallen star.
I Pray Tonight
by Michael R. Burch
for the Nashville Covenant survivors
I pray tonight
the starry light
might
surround you.
I pray
each day
that, come what may,
no dark thing confound you.
I pray ere the morrow
an end to your sorrow.
May angels' white chorales
sing, and astound you.
Nashville Covenant Call to Action
by Michael R. Burch
We see their small coffins
and our hearts break,
so we ask the NRA—
"Did you make a mistake?"
And we vow to save the next child
for sweet love's sake,
but also to protect ourselves
from such heartache.
The lives, safety and happiness of our children depend on our ability to persuade the NRA and its political lackeys to stop exalting money and political gain above the life, liberty and happiness of innocents. What is the cost of banning assault weapons, compared to the ultimate price innocents pay when they are used by madmen playing Rambo in classrooms and theaters? Ironically, just hours before the Sandy Hook massacre, in a weekly column that I wrote for the Nashville City Paper, I pointed out that right-wing politicians are not just demanding the "right" of citizens to bear loaded handguns into restaurants that serve alcohol and bars — a combustible mix. No, people who call themselves "conservative Christians" in collusion with the NRA and its gun lobby are demanding the right to carry assault weapons everywhere ... which "logically" means into universities, high schools, grade schools, kindergartens, pre-schools, Sunday schools and maternity wards. When I wrote this, I was speaking ironically — I thought — but then a few hours later the NRA and its political minions made me seem like a prophet.
Sandy Hook Shooting Gallery
by Michael R. Burch
If we live by the rule of the gun
what can a child do,
but run?
Sixteen of the students who died at Sandy Hook were six years old; the other four students were seven. I wrote the poem below for another child gunned down by a madman. While we cannot legislate sanity, we can be sane enough to legislate away the "right" of serial killers to purchase assault weapons so easily. We can defend many small victims from such carnage, if "we the people" have the wisdom and the will to defend them.
Child of 9-11
by Michael R. Burch
a poem for Christina-Taylor Green, who was born
on September 11, 2001 and died at age nine,
shot to death ...
Child of 9-11, beloved,
I bring this lily, lay it down
here at your feet, and eiderdown,
and all soft things, for your gentle spirit.
I bring this psalm — I hope you hear it.
Much love I bring — I lay it down
here by your form, which is not you,
but what you left this shell-shocked world
to help us learn what we must do
to save another child like you.
Child of 9-11, I know
you are not here, but watch, afar
from distant stars, where angels rue
the brutal things some mortals do.
I also watch; I also rue.
And so I make this pledge and vow:
though I may weep, I will not rest
nor will my pen fail heaven's test
till guns and wars and hate are banned
from every shore, from every land.
Child of 9-11, I grieve
your tender life, cut short ... bereaved,
what can I do, but pledge my life
to saving lives like yours? Belief
in your sweet worth has led me here ...
I give my all: my pen, this tear,
this lily and this eiderdown,
and all soft things my heart can bear;
I bear them to your final bier,
and leave them with my promise, here.
The Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings left 27 students and educators dead, and question our nation's sanity and resolve to put children's lives above money and politics.
This haiku makes me think of the students and teachers of Sandy Hook, who were trapped in a war zone:
War
stood at the end of the hall
in the long shadows
—Watanabe Hakusen, translation by Michael R. Burch
Piercing the Shell
by Michael R. Burch
If we strip away all the accouterments of war,
perhaps we'll discover what the heart is for.
It seems to me that the NRA has declared a war — an open season — on our children, by insisting that assault weapons must be available to every Tom, **** and ***** Harry. But what will we, the people, say and do?
Whence Now?
by Michael R. Burch
Grown darkly accustomed to grief,
will we ever turn over a new leaf?
Something
by Michael R. Burch
Something inescapable is lost—
lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight,
vanishing in a gust of wind toward an expanse of stars
immeasurable and void.
Something uncapturable is gone—
gone with the spent leaves and illuminations of autumn,
scattered into a haze with the faint rustle of parched grass
and remembrance.
Something unforgettable is past—
blown from a glimmer into nothingness, or less,
and finality has swept into a corner where it lies
in dust and cobwebs and silence.
The three students shot and killed in the Nashville Covenant School massacre were all nine-year-olds. They were identified as Evelyn Dieckhaus, Hallie Scruggs and William Kinney. Three adults were also killed in the shooting: Cynthia Peak, Mike Hill and Katherine Koonce. It is no longer good enough to talk about loving our children and praying for them to be safe. We have to protect them from mass murderers armed with assault weapons. The alleged serial killer, Audrey Hale, was reportedly armed with an AR-style rifle and an AR-style pistol. In more civilized nations citizens cannot legally purchase such military-grade weapons. The Nashville Covenant massacre marked the 19th shooting at an American school or university, so far in the first three months of 2023, according to CNN.
Keywords/Tags: Nashville, Nashville Covenant, Nashville Covenant Presbyterian School, school shooting, shootings, massacre, children, kids, students, child abuse, gun control, America, United States, USA, death, deaths, ****** serial ****** massacre, bereavement, class, classes
Mar 29, 2023
Mar 29, 2023 at 4:03 AM UTC
Those who believe in Me have a special place after they die. They will be given untold glory and joys of ineffable gladness. Those who doubt My words will come to know of their loss after death and will continue to humble themselves throughout eternity. Fires of ignorance will bind them throughout the worlds of God. When they seek distinction after death, they will weep bitterly as one who has not know God. Belief in Me is contingent on obeying My laws and neither is acceptable without the other. If the rebel ceases their transgression, and asks for forgiveness in a state of repentance, it will be better for them. Weigh not My words with any other Book or allusion and confuse not thyself with signs which bear no reality. My Knowledge has always been with God as it shall remain.
I find myself in between the Gog of complexity and the Magog of simplicity. Let forth your tongue to extol God and Its Message. No man hath taken Its image as God is beyond reflection.
When the boy asks to know, set thyself toward your own sight and renounce any thought save Me. No helper do you have save Me.
We speak only what We hear, and never will spiritual dominion be given to one who produces thoughts set on the vanities of the world. Produce their dominion by using them for the benefits of mankind.
Those who cannot overlook the misdeeds of the Chosen Ones of God, the Prophets, will never be able to overlook the deeds of any of God's creatures. Such lucidity will overcome them, and they will be forced to acknowledge that no being in the heavens or in the earth can leave without a trace of hate in the hearts when looking with the eyes of retribution.
The time for justice has come. Make a plan for the redemption of your heart, but know that whosoever overlooks others' shortcomings is met with more rewards in the worlds of eternity. For whose plan of vengeance is more just than God's, Who punishes without the knowledge of Its creatures and rewards without their knowledge either.
No laws will be given by Me save the exact Law of Baha'u'llah's Covenant. For I have not come to change His laws, but fulfill them. Abandon your couches for seat with the Christ. He is come again unto you while ye were enmeshed in your own designs.
Have you not heard the bells peal in My name, though the name be bereft of glory, We have come to extol God's laws, laws which will pattern a civilization in the feet of Isaiah's prophecy. Everywhere Its laws are heard over the skies and throughout the earth. Hearken then to taking delight in them.
For whoso has turned away from them, hath turned away from the Spirit and never associated with It. For the senses seek their own sight, and I have come to give you God's vision. Instead, you have turned to the god of the air and body, and not the God Divine, the One alone that can release you into the worlds of eternal sunshine. Though the god of the body gives the beauty of your own existence, I have come as a gardener to set the diverse plants of humanity in order. We see that little gardening has been done, so there is plenty still to do.
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 11:00 AM UTC
Solomon tells God not to forget his promises he made to his father, David, of successors and protection.
. . . . . . .
I wonder what his promises are to me
if he has made any at all.
But if he has not
he has in a million small and large matters
protected me
except when I didn’t allow him to
which is probably most of the time.
Dare I expend the energy
to mentally list these matters?
I seem so lazy
when I think of my parents and how they sacrificed
their pleasure and comfort for me,
when I think of the pain I caused Mom
from the first weeks of conception on.
Oh how I have taken that love for granted.
How much more so with my Creator.
But truth is, I cannot separate the love
of Mamma and Daddy
friends who bore my boorishness
kin who’ve overlooked me overlooking them
I cannot separate these
from the fingers of the great sculptor.
(See I Kings 8:25-30)
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 1:12 PM UTC
In the ancient ages of our story,
Long lost on the storm-tossed sea of time,
Mystics, Shamen, Seers, Poets, and Prophets
Pointed to paths leading to survival,
Vital roads for our guides to find.
Lo, our progress came through
The purge of many perils.
In the grip of that troubled existence,
Our visionaries found the way forth
From a plague of deadly terrors.
Born out of the feverish tumult of the mystic Wild-man
Or the symbolic song of a Tribal Priestess,
Came words of hope and vision.
Their inner-light was a primordial premonition, stoking
The courage to make our daunting decisions.
Their mind’s eye pierced the veil, striking
Lightning catalysts into a forest of fascination,
To ignite the strength we must bring to fruition!
We clung to their words as we clung to each other,
And heard their call to mission.
We allowed the signs of their ecstasy to gestate
Within our souls; words woven into myths
To bear the fruit of immortal imagination!
Out of this flame came the hard-won wisdom of our people,
Our embryonic culture, and the seeds of our salvation.
We traveled on in the grip of a darkened world and
Survived together, confirmed by a shared oath.
The tree of humanity’s fragile hope must take root,
To fulfill its future growth.
We are an Ark-people, a covenant people,
A people of deep foundations.
We take that light, that fire, and
That power into our destiny,
Striking wild and true within!
May the ineffable Creator bless our steps,
Secure our path, inspire our faith,
And anoint our hearts for the road ahead,
Beyond…
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 11:53 AM UTC
*Electric Fire
Liquid Desire
Purged Mists
Lost Restrains
My mind was born in dark abysses
From destructive rebellion inside of me
I see the world in colors of traitorous death
I can feel a brotherly hand of the devil
I've thrown off the shackles, shackles rounded by the thorn
I've killed the weakness, weakness designated to commoners
The covenant signed in childish ignorance
Broken as a fruit from paradise garden
I've entered the palace of free hellish elites
Living behind a grey, wormy nest
I've cut the umbilical cord, an umbilical cord filled with venom
I've thrown away my memories, cursing all the past.
20-05-2015
02:55 AM*
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 9:42 AM UTC
I don't wanna die yet
but i want to leave this world,really!
with a spark twinkling in their eyes
with a sweetest smile at their lips
with the true happiness on their hearts
with a peaceful thinking of their minds
through my writings that
wrote ups my entire life
together with them distantly
i wouldn't be left without even saying
that i am leaving...for i don't wanna be gone
without even enjoying the blessing
beyond the health and wellness of their bodies
without even seeing the prosperity of their lives
without even knowing there is a salvation of their souls
without hearing the forgiveness of their own
as well as my shortcomings
let me live and let die
with or without music in my ears
with or w/out struggles in my hands
with or w/out a friend who trusted me not
with or w/out a lover who loves me not
cuz i couldn't be seated anymore
with or w/out a reader by YOUR own will
for i should stand up on my own feet
with or w/out somebody by my side
again let me live and let die
by caressing me in Your powerful loving arms
with or w/out my beloved mystery rhyme!
PLEASE LET US STAY by the love and companion
of YOUR BEGOTTEN SON,
AND LET US LIVE AND NOT DIE YET
within your everlasting covenant
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC