Poetry is an art form that has the ability to excite our imaginations and expand our thinking with rhythm and rhyme. Honestly though, too often I wade through one-hundred awfully dull poems before finding one little golden nugget. Understandably, the awkwardness, vagaries, and eccentricities of poetry ensures it will never achieve the mainstream popularity of its cousin art form; songwriting.

In my humble opinion (and I mean that sincerely), good poetry should have a meaningful message. And, though the message might be slightly obscured by artistic nuance and emotional flourish it ultimately shines through and becomes comprehensible to the reader. From King David to right now spiritually minded people have gravitated to poetry as a means of worshipful expression.

I’m not a prolific poet. When it flows, it comes like a waterfall that I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to stop it. When it isn’t flowing, I can’t even put one word after another in a worthwhile way. From time to time I’ve shared them here even though it’s a major departure from my usual writings. I hope they’ve been a blessing to some of you. I know there’s at least a few other poetic apostolic souls out there.

Because the poetry has been random and sporadic I’ve compiled them into an easy-to-find list below. Also, if you’re a poet I’d love to read your musings. Or, if you have a favorite poem or poet I’d love to hear about it. I’ll start by sharing a poem I just recently stumbled upon. Enjoy.

Recitation

BY SCOTT CAIRNS

He did not fall then, blind upon a road,
nor did his lifelong palsy disappear.
He heard no voice, save the familiar,

ceaseless, self-interrogation
of the sore perplexed. The kettle steamed
and whistled. A heavy truck downshifted

near the square. He heard a child calling,
and heard a mourning dove intone its one
dull call. For all of that, his wits remained

quite dim. He breathed and spoke the words he read.
If what had been long dead then came alive,
that resurrection was by all appearances

metaphorical. The miracle arrived
without display. He held a book, and as he read
he found the very thing he’d sought. Just that.

A life with little hurt but one, the lucky gift
of a raveled book, a kettle slow to heat,
and time enough therefore to lift the book

and find in one slight passage the very wish
he dared not ask aloud, until, that is,
he spoke the words he read.

Below, I’ve compiled a quick link to the six poems I’ve featured on this blog over the years. I’m very nervous and excited to have recently launched the Apostolic Voice Podcast.

Hey, I’m excited to announce the launch of the Apostolic Voice Podcast. In this first episode, I feature some of the Poetry Collection, talk about the Kindom of God, and even do some dramatic readings. You can listen below or you can find the Apostolic Voice with Ryan French podcast on your favorite platform.