Poetry

WORK 01

Broken Church

When the church looks like the world
Lord have mercy

And our friends become dear enemies
Christ have mercy

When we speak when we should stay silent
Lord have mercy

And are silent when we should speak
Christ have mercy

When the enemy stages a take-over
Lord have mercy

And our best intentions turn to poison
Christ have mercy

When sin becomes acceptable
Lord have mercy

And spiritual pride clouds our clarity
Christ have mercy

And we refuse to admit we are wrong… Lord have mercy

Or at least unsure… Christ have mercy

And we are angry…. Lord have mercy.

And we are afraid…. Christ have mercy
Lord have mercy.

^{Pamela Keske – May 2021}

WORK 02

Every Time

Every time I am buried again.
When the pain is too much for me
to stay above ground.
I find myself,
In the dark
Eyes shut tight,
In the quiet
Alone and unmoving.

Only One can get to me there,
The safe one
The loving and kind one.
He does not insist,
that I unbury myself
and get back to the business of living.

He sits with me there.
Underground
Like a seed pushed down into soil.
Another piece of my broken heart.
He tells me,
“I AM here.”
and “I’ve been here before.
Go ahead and die little seed,
Because I’ve died even more.”

As I let go,
Surrender,
Break apart.
Something new starts stirring,
Deep in my gut
Life slices through,
From out of this grave.

A new song to sing,
Made up of all this pain.
I die my little deaths,
And you gather them in yours
And make something beautiful,
That will last
Forever.
Every
Single
Time.

^{Pamela Keske – 2023}

WORK 03

…but take heart

“in the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
…but take heart” Jesus John 16:33

…but take heart
My dear child
The world is shaking
People are dying

…but take heart
One day, one moment at a time
Love where you are
Be who you are

…but take heart
In the dark night
When hope is gone
You are not alone

…but take heart
At the heights
When you catch a glimpse
Of what’s to come

…but take heart
I have won
All will be right
I have overcome the world.

^{Pamela Keske – June 2021}

WORK 04

Cathedral

In the cathedral of my soul, Where my Savior dwells, Looking up at its vastness. As his mercy swells. Oceans of love, Expanses of hope, Faith that ever soars, Only because He walks its halls. And enters all its doors.

In the garden of my heart That my Master tends, Pulling out the weeds of fear. As his hope descends Fountains of joy, Fenced in by truth, Peace that ever grows, Only because He will not yield. And prunes back all its foes.

In the deep well of my mind Where the word comes nigh, Submerging all that’s dying. He raises me on high. Repentance accepted. Wisdom increasing, A will that can obey. Only because he is the potter.  And I’m the wet clay.

In the mansion of my life That my maker builds Restoring all that’s falling, As his love fulfills. Foundation of faith, Girded by right,
his light in every room, Only because he is my home, Which darkness can’t consume.

Pamela Keske 2004

WORK 05

Left Un-Done

“Forgive us Lord for the things we have done and the things we have left undone.”
The Book of Common Prayer; Prayer of Confession

Left undone? Left undone?
How do I even know what I have left undone?
The words I have left un-said,
The voice I have left un-heard,
The time I have left unspent.

Who Lord, have I left un-loved?
Who have I walked by un-noticed?
What wounds have I left un-healed?
What money have I left un-given?

Who have I dismissed without a thought?
What praises have I left un-sung?
What thank you have left-unspoken?
What prayers was I too busy to pray?
What marginalized was I too preoccupied to honor?

The hungry I left un-fed,
The naked I left un-clothed,
The lonely I was too “important” to visit,
The call I was too afraid to make.

Forgive me lord for all that I have left un-done…
Help me see,
Help me hear,
Make me slow down,
Make me stop.

^{Pamela Keske – 2021}

WORK 06

Me and Sam

Peanut butter, Dr. Seuss,
Laundry, Green Eggs and Ham
These things make up the stuff of life.
For me and Sam I am.

For Sam it is a strange deep need
To get the guy to eat
For me it is misled desire
To make myself complete.

I try, like Sam, to control,
All the stuff of life,
My kids, my home, my own dear spouse,
My job as mother and wife.

But unlike Sam, I often fail,
To get the kids to eat
Or keep things ordered, peaceful, calm,
And all their bedrooms neat.

For I have found I’m not in control
Of all that’s here or there
I can only choose my response,
And not give in to despair.

So…
Will I love them in the house?
Will I be calm if there’s a mouse?
Will I make a fort out of a box?
Will I play a game of cat and fox?
Will I drive them in the car?
Even when it’s very far?
Will I let them play out in the rain?
Will I pretend I am a train?
Will I let them climb up in a tree?
Will I NOT say, “LET ME BE!”?

For me, not Sam, there is no need.
To be in control you see,
For the stuff of life, in the hands of God,
Is what is making me.

^{Pamela Keske – 2004}