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Cliff Perkins Jul 2020
“But Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground,
as though he heard them not.”
John 8:6

What ran through his mind?
God’s plan?
Man’s inhumanity to man?
Was her husband kind?

Why with his finger?
Dust into dust?
For better or for worse?
God given lust-
A blessing and a curse

What did he write?
Some obtuse design?
A stick figure of His own end?
A solitary hangman’s game?

Was it Words?
To Him to her compare?
******* versus *****?
Which was less, which more?

How to stop this madness-
Stones cast on her head?
Turn them into bread?
**** me in her stead?

No matter what he chose
He was sure to lose
This is the story of the woman caught in the act of adultery by her husband, and the crowd who was about to stone her to death as was required by some of the scriptures. The crowd asked Jesus what he thought they should do with the woman. He eventually answered saying:  "let he who is without sin cast the first stone". I was struck by one small part of the story- the fact that, before he answered, Jesus knelt down and wrote in the dust. What was that all about?
Cliff Perkins Apr 2020
Across the lake
The sun moves
Imperceptibly
Unless you fail to notice

Dare not be distracted!
Should you be lost in reverie
For only moment
All will change on your return

Night comes
Chasing day
Like hounds after the hart
Nipping at the heels

Rushing ‘cross the water
A shadowy Tsumani
Drowning grass and trees
On the other side
Cliff Perkins Apr 2020
A patch of ground
Pine straw strewn
Sheltered from worst wind

Lie down with dogs
Fur hot to touch
Tongues cool to face

Through heavy lids
See magic shows
The sunlight plays
Cliff Perkins Dec 2019
Good poems are like winter
When the fierce wind
Strips trees to X-rays
Nailed to the blinding blue

When the rain scoured air
Cleansed and clear
Pared down to Nothing
Reveals everything

When world, warmth-stripped
Left uncaring, cold
Shakes us awake
From our ambiguous dreams

Good poems are like winter
Much removed, little left
But those few remnants scream
With blood curdling power
Cliff Perkins Jun 2019
Step outside
Walking slow
Cloud above
Sun below
Sky on fire
Rainbow

Heat relieved
Forest drenched
Dripping leaves
Thirst quenched

Almost dark
Firefly
Caught in hand
Letting go
Whip-poor-will
Bursting joy

Poem lines
No pen to write
Hurry home
So memory might
Capture all
I've seen tonight
Cliff Perkins Jun 2019
Roaring breeze approaches
Freeing leaves of their raindrops
Left by morning shower
Cliff Perkins May 2019
Too perfectly complete
Needing nothing
No wonder you were cruel
Each king needs a fool

You do not lack
You cannot pine
You have no needs
Like he who intercedes

All Present,
You can never know
Absence of a friend
Or joy at their return

All Knowing
You can't experience
Joy of epiphany
Or bliss of ignorance

Most High
You can never climb
A mountain or a Tree
Or hill of Calvary

What could you want,
Having all there is?
An olive mount,
A traitor’s kiss?

No wonder you came down
To wear that thorny crown
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