Pamela S. Wynn

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POETRY

Lazarus

The few allowed to mourn at the grave
leave   dead to life   alive to death

Corn fields blaze   foxes run for cover
voices of the dead deafening

In the beginning there was time
so much time . . .

Someone should have warned us
that first hour

mineral   human   animal   plant
—nothing in creation stands apart

Not the swan’s loud low-pitched trumpeting
in the distance   the air full of wild cries
Not the eagle that combs the air with its claws

Nor lives crushed by the weight of crosses born of faith
while hedgehogs snuffle in fringes of uncut grass
and fireflies form a crown for your head


Eavesdropping at Christmas

on Matthew, Mark, Luke and John on a bridge between heaven and earth
conferring on the stories they’ve told of Jesus and his life on this orb of loam

Mark and John remain silent on the birth altogether. Matthew and Luke agree
on the characters Mary, Joseph, and the babe. And there’s that shining star.

Here the two diverge.

With Matthew a star leads wise men (number unknown) to the babe in a house
bringing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, who then foil King Herod’s evil plot.

Luke, born storyteller, knows a well-told tale rich in detail resonates best with both
head and heart so he gives us an overfilled inn and babe in bands of cloth in a manger.

He adds to the cast Caesar Augustus, an angel of the Lord, an undetermined
number of shepherds, and a multitude of heavenly host to boot.

All four agree on the crux of the plethora of stories all told:

God makes a way out of no way and never wavers in an unfathomable love for us;
that God and humankind come face to face in many an unexpected place.


Epiphany

Snow falls on snow   branches shagged with ice
Creation a tangle of brambles

A doe and buck sniff about   elegant and easeful
Evergreens immortal   stand straight and strong

Shepherd’s star shines splendid bright
Moon frozen   spreads silver sheen

Shifting my weight   twigs snap
Shatter the scene

Deer and buck bolt
Deep into wood

Where we burn weighted lives
Fallen stars white heat winter’s light


Significantly shaped by her childhood in North Carolina, Pamela S. Wynn now lives in Minnesota. Author of Diamonds on the Back of a Snake (Laurel Poetry Collective, 2004) and co-editor of the anthology Body of Evidence (Laurel Poetry Collective, 2012), her poems have appeared in numerous publications including Sojourners Magazine, Christian Century, Spiritus: A Journal of Christian Spirituality, Seminary Ridge Review and Arts: The Arts in Religious and Theological Studies.


Photo by saad aslam on Pexels.com

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