Short Outposts Poems

There exists no place
   Outside the Lord's grip -
From the outposts of space
   To the eclipse of a pit -
He's never far away

And even more so -
   He's on the war field
In the foxholes -
   In the nursing ward
And in the catacombs.

Where else should He be
   But with the wounded
In body and spirit, prithee?
   As two are wed -
Jesus - be ever with me....

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the spiritual heart
conjoined with the physical
radiates a compelling silent hum
even as the head ovoid glistens in bliss
enlivened spine radiates cool heat
whilst over front the energy grid 
anchors power at the navel

soles of feet and palms 
act as outposts of the glow
all nodes in unison invoking grace
setting up an intent wave from the heart
in childlike playfulness by presence
as both the subject and object 
creator and the recipient...

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