Last night sitting on the edge of my bed
a bed that seemed more like a ledge
there with a burden in my head:
Should I look up or just feel the dread?

I sat longer and I think I prayed.
I knew he was a God who cared,
but lately on the verge of afraid,
my faith seemed weak and impaired.

I wondered if they were right
that the short blast of rays
won’t hurt and will **** the blight
the doctors say is in its early phase.

But why pray to a God who seemed unable
to help my aunt who died
from a disease so unstable,
so good at finding places to hide?

So here I was, teetering between trust
and its evil opposite, doubt
doubt he can alter life’s ******.
Does he have any real clout?

In this dark of mind
I came to see I really don’t know!
So why let my inner skeptic always lurking behind
reign and empower its verdict of no?

Instead I choose to lift my head
from that lonely fretting place
and embrace a Father not gone and dead -
but here, now to create and renew me with grace.

“Teetering,” Copyright © 2018 by Glenn Currier

It’s a cloudy day today
forecast predicts lots of wind
my mood’s a darker shade of gray
than it has lately been

dissonant as the music playing
today as out of sync
as my heart is staying -
feeling on the brink

of I don’t know what
like the weather - wanting spring
for this winter’s tightened my gut -
wondering what the news will bring.

Reading poetry and seeing art
makes me believe God’s within -
as co-creators not wholly apart
even in our darkest sin

but sometimes faith’s leap
seems too long
the chasm between us too deep.
If in weakness I’m made strong

maybe this day I’ll find the strength
find the art of which I’m possessed
discover the joy to jump that length
through the dark that says God’s depressed.

In the long or short expanse of your life
can you say you have become a hero?
I often wonder if I’ll be remembered
for anything important when I’m gone.
No biological children to carry my name
no feats that brought me fame
no bravery to save a life in danger
no building or great wealthy gain
no great status or social changer.

But more and more lately
being considered or thought of greatly
is not my concern.
Now-a-days I ask myself if I’ve taken time
to listen or smile or write a rhyme
to pause for a minute or an hour
to stop, notice and smell a flower?
Have I spoken kindly in a bad mood
or shut up when someone was rude
or let traffic in my lane
or fed my soul as well as my brain?

Today I ask not if I am a hero
but simply if I am becoming.

“Becoming a Hero,” Copyright ©2017 by Glenn Currier

October 15

Seated bedside at
my father's corpse -
with whom to philosophize?

Las Cruces

Red deep in purple
sky fire illuminates
last rites at sunset

July 26*

Death weeps in despair
eternal battle futile
desert rose blossoms



- fr

Blink,
the lightning flash
still severs
through closed eyes

Center,
on the temporary illumination
and periphery is
destroyed

Deep in the purple aftermath,
radiance remembered
as horrid ominous thunder
applauds

Defiant fear,
seeking to embody
godlike
power...


- fr

Gaze deeply and find
stellar parentage
in the columbine


- fr