Because poems are what I have that are most easy to post!
The first is an older one. The second I scribbled down yesterday. Both are somewhat flawed, but they both have a great line or two (especially the ending of the second).
All hint at the will of God; it stands behind each law,
it summons up each power that summons love and awe.
The creative act of God is not a whisper in early time -
it flows through every birthing as meaning flows through rhyme,
and, like the evocations of words within the heart,
reverberates in every whole that transcends summing parts,
and grounds each single part, as every leaping thought
makes as if anew the words within it caught.
The Good of Sorrow
This chill, sharp wind through lonely trees,
Which whips with snow and wails,
Is colder far than any ice-swept seas
In ancient north where story fails.
Am I a snowflake quickly sweeping
Through the flurried airs of night,
Alone in all my whispered weeping,
Battered in an endless fight?
So wild is this way I'm wending,
Yet intimating something more:
For drifts of sorrow, sadness sending,
Sadness-ending loves restore!