Short Gloried Poems

The Cross is our crutch: we are lamed and maimed,
Crippling sin in our soul,
Defiled and scourged, our faith defamed,
Golgotha our gloried goal.

The Cross is a bludgeon for smiting down
Death in his sable gown.
It’s Roman-hewn and Jesus-borne,
Encircled with blood-flecked thorn....

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The Cross is our crutch: we are lamed and maimed,
Crippling sin in our soul,
Defiled and scourged, our faith defamed,
Golgotha our gloried goal.

The Cross is a bludgeon for smiting down
Death in his sable gown.
It’s Roman-hewn and Jesus-borne,
Encircled with blood-flecked thorn....

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Bright summer day; the midday sun glowing high in the sky
Beaming down on sunflowers as they turn their heads to follow it
The afternoon gloried with yellow illumination




Sijo Poem Poetry Contest/Winner(Honorable Mention)
Sponsored by: Heidi Sands 
Date written and posted: 05/26/2018...

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© 2013 (By Jim Sularz)

Every human knows it’s spark,
a gentle tug, a singing heart.
From unknown isles, an alarming ring,
raining unseen feathers from flailing wings.

An abiding guide, a forgiving strum,
from a single note, to a louder drum.
Along it’s journeyed byways, high above a thorny sea,
is a gilded road followed – to one’s gloried destiny!...

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Entombed in the winter
to burst forth in April;
their petals bear shadows
of crosses and nails.
Some think Augusta;
I image Golgatha:
bread of life broken
and all that entails.

Gloried reminder of
what comes right after,
the dogwoods in springtime
burst into full bloom.
Moriah spared Isaac,
rejoicing with laughter,
Abraham’s seed springs forth,
prepares a room.
...

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I think of that first Christmas
where in a manger lay
the infant, Jesus, come to earth
to lead us in the way.
Both Mary and Joseph 
had witness of his worth.
Angels, shepherds, wisemen
all gloried in his birth.
And now a later Christmas
we celebrate joyfully.
The resurrected Savior,
who died for you and me,
would have us give our reverence
in gifts of common love.
In caring for each other,
we can follow him above....

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The gorgeous cardinal returned as a woman to the Wi Now Pass.
Most did not recognize her, but the wise owl certainly did.
He was amazed at how beautiful she was in human form.
Knew she would take flight and soar off within a week or two.
Watched her entrance and enthrall the forest animals in the meantime.
Wondered if she would retain her lips or fly away with her beak?
In the meantime, he gloried in a delighted way at her loveliness....

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Thinking in our reasoned light
No answer blocks our say.
Running from towards the night,
We carry on our way.

In our gloried human right
We worship sun and day,
Spurning thoughts revealing light
And carry on our way.

Heedless in our hopeless height,
The heretics we flay.
Running downwards in the night,
Our golden glory gray.

Through cold fog and blighted sight
We barely see the ray.
Truthful and forgiving light;
We tarry on our way....

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Night falls and I'm at ease
soon you'll be my waited dream
on painted wings you'll flitter by
reaching points that catch my eye
enter recesses   my very soul
fillings voids  in time worn holes
wonders seized in tender touch
caressing calm in natures blush
on silver streaks of amber light
filter  hints of gloried sight
upon tepid breezes heading south
graze your lips upon my mouth

Shared thoughts surrender in silken beds
Hearts rejoice in shades of red...

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