The Minotaur’s Apologue

Added “The Minotaur’s Apologue” to the site under “Writings VI.

The Minotaur’s Apologue
Pity the poet
Too blind to see
The world as it is,
Not as he wills it to be.

Hearing the music
Of days long gone by,
His ears soundly deafened
To the end of replies.

No more the warm touch
Of sun-bathed fall
Where frequented mem’ries
Had last been recalled,

Where fragrant aromas
Past thickets of stone
Wafted down gently
Where he still sat alone.

Since tasting defeat
Oh, its almondesque tang!
How initially sweet,
Yet now with sharp pangs

The senses are dulled
Yet stirred all the same,
By sojourns to freedom
Far from that fair flame.



What I Saw

Through the Kaleidoscope. Added as “Writings V”.

The Kaleidoscope
Bits of color, bits of glass
Change each other as they pass.
Shards of light and shapes uncertain
Guide fools and wise through life’s thin curtain.

“What will I find?” “What shall I see?”
I asked the Other expectantly.
He shook his head, for he was a mute
His hair white and wiry, right down to its roots.

No words he offered, no answers he gave
He just pointed at me, then at an old grave.
‘Tis the end of all things, after all life is done
The end of the race, whether lost or won.

I looked through the ‘scope, and what did I feel
But remorse and sharp pain from crushed ideals.
This perspective was strange, not like the view
From my youth with childhood’s warm, pastel hues.

As patterns shifted, and shapes unraveled
My thoughts turned slowly to roads untraveled.
The music playing ‘twas a mournful tune;
A dirge perhaps, for some day soon
When a crowd would gather, as a mother’s cry
Pierces the silent, watching sky.

Arcane its features, but though of ancient design,
The kaleidoscope beckons, its polish still shines.
I cannot resist its call any longer, nor fight its embrace.
So if you find me staring, do not fear my wan face.

Some day, perhaps, you too shall discover
A tool like mine which will help you uncover
The truths of this world and the next in good time
Where displayed are great sorrow and perhaps the sublime.



Some Thoughts

On Love:
“The phrase ‘I love you’ is not a common currency which depreciates with its frequent issuance. Rather, it is a singularly unique treasure which grows in luster each time it is carefully presented for its recipient’s pleasure and benefit. However, like paper money, it must be secured by the hard currency of utter devotion, complete honesty, selfless sacrifice, and a supreme and unflinching reverence for love’s original and frequent Issuer, the Almighty Himself.”

On Humility:
The first sign of an inflated ego is a diminished capacity for the well-being and benefit of others.



A familiar voice, first heard when I was yet a boy, earnestly entreated me to return to the cross. This faithful servant gently reminded me of the violence which precipitated the most beautiful act of supreme love. She recalled the story of a man of sorrows who had come to His own, only to be ridiculed and rejected, slandered and slain.

The desired conqueror had not arrived to overthrow Roman oppression; He had arrived to perform a more important task: to free slaves bound to the dictates of an invisible enemy- an enemy whose effects could be seen from Jerusalem to Jericho. The cheering “Hosannas” had quickly turned to jeering hate. The palm branches gently waving in the air above His head were replaced with whips which came down repeatedly, lashing and laying open skin, muscle, and sinew. Mocking the majesty of a King’s beloved Prince, humanity thrust down a crown of thorns to mutilate His brow.

I must return to that hill to remember how the infinite God became finite, revisit where the greatest act of love blossomed amid the most violent hatred, and marvel at how a God so magnanimous could restrain His eternal power and wrath, turning away from an act so savage as it was perpetrated with such utter impunity on the One He loved.

I must ponder how our holy Lord, who could not countenance an iota of sin, willingly embraced the mantle of our damnation, allowing the most twisted creations of perverted souls to pervade His presence. I must strain to listen as His weakened body hung on that cross, and hung on to life for a few more minutes, until…until the words of release were whispered out of that parched mouth and He declared that the impossible had been made possible.

I imagine the fear of the disciples as they scattered, torn by their duty to be faithful and ashamed of their lack of faith in adhering to that charge. Betrayed by one of their number, despairing of the separation they felt from their Lord after so much fellowship, not comprehending the victory which He would achieve after these days of total defeat, I can only wonder what thoughts must have been racing through the minds of those eleven men.

What inexplicable joy, what comforting reassurance must have radiated from their souls after glimpsing the beloved face of their Lord- newly risen from the grave! The One who had returned Lazarus to life silenced those who wondered if He Himself could not only cheat, but defeat death. In doing so, He brought the spiritually dead to life.

Thank you, Joni, for living out your faith, and for dutifully and humbly carrying on the work our Master has given you. Thank you for your timely message reminding all who heard you of the need to spread the good news and share the incredible love we have all experienced. Truly, you demonstrate the peace that passes all understanding. May He continue to strengthen you until the day He commends you in person.