by Dave Schultz
BOOK II: Sestinas for Sundays
“For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard.” -Acts 4:20
Luke’s words
Look Listen God Sundays Honesty Love Grow Children Choose Wonder New Eden Memories Loyalty Teach Learn Cathedral Beware Precious Confession Prayer Miracles Blessings Hope Holiness Youth Feel Soul Dance Yield Together Let God Help Greater Sing Today Respect Kindness Grace Accept One Freedom Regret Positive Perfection Work Curiosity Worship Steps Now Better Trust True Within Everywhere Innocence Equal Image Forgive Practice Completion Second Chance Spirit Prayer Day Night Silence Holiness Know Last First Content Laugh Renewal Ourselves Follow Remember Love Love Deep Near Faith Jesus Christ Saved Blessed Protected Guided Power Glory Salvation Forever.
These are my words. I wrote each Sunday, imitating the form of the sestina, using the words I gathered on my journey to complete each line. If I violated any poetic conventions, one ought to forgive and understand. Was I not instructed by a writer called “Bert the Hack”? (Who only learned it secondhand himself he says, from reading Auden and Kipling.)
I make no claim to be a poet, no, not at all. Actually, though my friend Bertralamus J Loreword once conned me into buying a “poetic license” from him for $15, after later proofreading some of my work he added insult to injury by refunding my money!
But let the humble speak of proud things, let the weak voice give glory to the strong--that the praise may not be to the songs, but to the One of whom they sing. Not all of them will bless you. But wait for the one that will.
Some of these are more psalms than poems; some are more sermons than psalms. And others are memoirs, history lessons and political opinions. Often they reflect the famous phrase used by my friend, neighbor and euchre partner, the King of Zembla, “A jumble of enjambments”. Sometimes, indeed, they feel more like word puzzles than artworks. Yet in the end I was satisfied with them, pleased that they speak God’s name and honor his authority. Doubtless I was blessed in writing them, more than you will be by reading them…
…which suggests your own challenge, if I may be so bold. If my poems displease you, write me a better one. I would look forward to publishing a second volume of Sestinas for Sundays. Perhaps my biographer could compile them.
My biographer, ah yes. A familiar figure, who resurfaced driving a rainbow-colored shuttle bus about Hun City, to and from the Cathedral and the football stadium. He presented his idea, along with a diploma from an obscure university, and convinced me to allow him to share my tale--the tale of a journey, and the promise of finding: “So that the stagnant might learn to seek, so that the sleepers might dare to dream, and so that the frightened children of forgotten worlds might feel their way back to the safe arms of the Father.”
Sounds a bit ambitious, but hey, I wished the kid luck and gave him my time and my notes. May some slight good come from it someday. In love and hope, Luke.
