A CORNERSTONE PRESS CHAPBOOK

TREES AND ROOTS
AND GROWING THINGS

Love Poems for Carol

Jon Trott

CORNERSTONE PRESS CHICAGO
© 1994, 2000 Jon Trott. All rights reserved.
First web edition.

Cornerstone Press Chicago
939 W. Wilson Ave.
Chicago, IL 60640

ISBN 0-940895-33-1
Printed in the United States of America.
97 96 95 94 4 3 2 1

To Carol, my beloved wife.

Your love is the most continuing, tangible clue
I'm onto something.

Poetry is idolatry refined.
--Kierkegaard, StagesOn Life's Way

The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing:
we know this in countless ways.
--Pascal, Pensees

---

Contents:

A Farmer's Song
Love You, Love You
The Gardener's Return
Love is the Way You Live
Kiddles and Riddles
Here We Are, Love
Thoughts of You in Random Patterns
Carol Trott's Lover
Moonscape
Interlude in Lovemaking
A Cup of Coffee
Dancer Me
A Brief Exploration of the Origins of Love
Looking at You Closely in a Horizontal Position
Life Burns By
Lovers' World
Love Has Bad Days
Solomon's Folly
The Flags of Love
Carol's Lullaby
Absence of Meaning
The Cynic Observes His Sleeping Children
There'll Be No Marriage in Heaven
Trees and Roots and Growing Things
Epistemology I: Preliminary Categories
Epistemology II: The Woman and the Half-Baked Philosopher
Blow Away
Teacher, Teacher
The Wonder, All Alive
This, and This
Words and Kisses
A Toast
Without A Compass
Sweet Things and Needful
Self-Identification
On Experimentation with Static Electricity

---

A Farmer's Song

Tell me if you ever saw
A field of unripe wheat
Thirsting in the summer sun
Withered in the tortured heat

Tell me if you ever heard
The thunder of the storm
Or felt the sting of hailstones
The wheat fields smashed and torn

Tell me if you ever watched
A fire consume the grain
And smelled the smoke-filled sky
A black/blue angry stain

Tell me if you ever wept
Over remnants of the spring
So much planted, so little left
Love nothing left to bring

Plant the seed again
Plant the seed again
Plant the seed again

No way of knowing but to believe

Plant the seed again.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Love You, Love You

Across the space of who I am
The gap I fill a mote in Reality's eye
I see you standing, walking,
moving, talking
And wonder how you feel inside
What your thoughts are as I stand, greasy-haired
Running my fingers absently across
The stubble of that absurd thin mustache

Love you!
Says the voice

You turn and speak
And I dream of being one
Your white dress
The quiet warmth together afterward
And down along the inner paths
Where a man's thoughts roam, his own
Yet so easily taken captive
By Cheap Desire's multitudes
(Even Solomon's wisdom wasn't enough)
I walk now as an older child
The baubles of sin still glitter
But I know a cheap imitation when I see one
Like the cricket's chirping
More insistent when one is most silent
I hear love's whispers
Echoing in the chambers of this
Flesh and blood place
And I watch you and wonder
At the symmetry of normalcy
The shouts of children
The shyness of your smile which says
You wonder at love, too

Love you, love you
Says the small voice

But build the fire slowly
I will I say and pray
For in the window your reflection
Reminds me of His gracious paths
The holocaust of rejection
So recently escaped
The promised land of love
Just now being entered....
Let me be worthy--no, merely obedient
To the way of love
And no other way, high or low
Let me woo this woman
As Boaz wooed Ruth
And the lover his Shulammite
I love love
Too much to harm its slumber
Enough to praise its power
Enough to act on its behalf
Love you, love you
Says the still voice

I whisper
Love you, too.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

The Gardener's Return

Our hearts rose and so converged
Upon their object of desire
Who in turn made of them one
Filled with joy and faithful fire
And rooted in his endless love
Our soul-seeds twined their tiny leaves
Round and round each others' lives
For love alone all things believes

So we live in love's own garden
Not the flowers with their charms
Seasons see them fade and perish
When cold wind their blossom harms
We, two trees, will lean together
Knowing sun and wind and rain
Sheltered in each others' arms
Until the Gardener comes again

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Love is the Way You Live

Dancing slowly, here she comes
Across the mem'ry of my mind
Smiling shyly, winking slyly
My attention is confined

To her face and to her passions
To her hopes and to her dreams
To her kisses, my sweet missus
The way she is is how she seems

Tender is the way she woos me
Slender is the hand I hold
Love the garland round her tresses
Shining story Christ foretold

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Kiddles and Riddles

What does me wriggling my nostrils mean?
Why do you laugh when I do it?
What do you think when I'm hiding unseen
And you scream when I jump though you knew it?

What do you think when I flop on the couch
Right when you're losing your mind
Children are crying, and inside you're sighing
Are you sure I'm the best you could find?
What do you think when I burp like a pig,
Then mumble 'Excuse me--please pass the bread'?
Would you like to examine my stomach's insides
Or maybe examine my head?

What do you think when Christopher laughs
At tales of mine, a dark ploy
He could have been such a wonderful child
But I'm busy creating a BOY
The girls are weeping, Trev made them mad
Can you really quite blame him?
He was taught by his dad

Disgusting, revolting, pigheaded, and strange
Are these some nice words to describe me?
You insist I'm nice but it's clear as thin ice
Love's stricken you hard--you can't see!

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Here We Are, Love

It is easy to love
When love is easy going
But harder to love
When love itself is tried

Trembling love
Love stuttering before pain
Afraid to love well
Because wells are deep places

Blinded love
Love without insurance
Faith urging "Take the leap!"
Poor love wants to go home

Here we are, love
Here we are

In Christ
In love
In Christ's love.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Thoughts of You in Random Patterns

The darkness

Over us like a cool breath

Your shoulder bare
Against my face

Movement

Silence

Except for your heartbeat

Words without importance
for now

You kiss me softly
I hold you fervently

Glad in a wordless way

I love you so

This moment...

for eternity

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Carol Trott's Lover

You sting my soul with longing
Hair, eyes, and lips
My rainbow's end

me?
I'm just Carol Trott's lover
Blessed by grace
And the kindness of a woman
Whose face always turns toward me

Why do I deserve this?
There's no reason
Except the love of the Heavenly Father
for

Carol Trott's lover

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Moonscape

The craters of existence
Blurt out their citizens
In the city heat where truth lies
In the vacuum where compassion dies

Here
Is where
Fear

Rules.

The arid surface of the streets
Offers footing to spacemen with guns
No life exists without oxygen
No life survives a world in sin

Here
Is where
Fear

Rules.

Yet rumors of a distant rain
A desert changed to green fields
Some say there will be dreams
I hold you in love's endless streams

Here
Is where
Fear

Loses.

Yes, it is true
There is a God
Two lovers can remain in love
There is life on the moon

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Interlude in Lovemaking

Garbage/shopping/
shelving/cannedgoods/brush
teeth/sacklunch
/argueroomdecor/talktalk/
spanking
if youkeepdoingthat/
where'smycoffee/paintthat/did
youseemyglasses/turnthatdown...

lloveyou

nowdidyouseethoseglasses...

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

A Cup of Coffee

Three men, meeting by chance on a train, discussedwomen they considered to be the finest.

The first, young and handsome, told of the wonderful girl he'd met in Paris. She'd been a model therefor a year, and was as good a lover as she was a looker.The second man, solid and respectable, told of the woman who'd worked with him on an important project, and had come up with a solution that had eludedhim. He dated her after that, and she was as lively atparties as she was focused on the job.

The third man seemed uninterested in the discussion. After chiding from his new acquaintances, and amoment where he scrubbed at a slight stubble on hischin, he spoke at last. He told of hiswife, a completelover, a great friend, a hard worker, and more. Whatmore, the others asked. "When I come home at night, hesaid, she's beenwith four children, done our wash,tidied our home... and she alwaysserves me a cup ofcoffee with cream while I just sit there." He twistedshyly at the wedding band on his thin finger.

The other two stared politely. A cup of coffee doesn't seem like a lot, one ventured delicately. Ah, but that'swhere you're wrong, said the third man. Love in Paris isa quick affair, no worries for you and hopefully none forher. Love at work and at play is nothing; nothing isdemanded of either of you. But how long will either ofyour women care for you after they see you, day in andday out? Willthe model care about you if your looksfade? Will you care for her?Will your office friend carefor you if you are demoted, maybe fired?Will they makeyou a cup of coffee ten years from now? And shouldeither of you have the nerve to ask for it?

Embarrassed at his outburst, the third man satback, silent in his seat. No more was said for the rest ofthe evening until they neared the city. A railway employee approached and asked if anyone wanted anythingfrom the buffet. "Coffee," the first two men blurted inunison. The railway man turned to the third man,expectant.

"No, I'll wait," he said.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Dancer Me

Spin me around in your arms
Let me feel your hands upon my shoulder blades
Take me against your small warm body
Dance with me until we weary

Tell me of your love for me
I'm not tired of hearing it from your inmost heart
Whisper how you feel tonight
Against my shoulder, head on my chest

We are not young as some lovers count youth
We are slow to claim great things
And quick to bow when circumstance blows
Bow, not break, for love endures all

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

A Brief Exploration of the Origins of Love

Where does love begin and end?
is a general sort of question
Undeserving any serious answer

Debated among bachelors and lechers
The conversation revolves around
Beauty
Sensuality
Wit
(Not too much, thank you)
Social grace

Love comes by different paths
in different ways
and through different doors

Love of soul
is urged upon us by King David
Who, despite other wives,
desired Abigail for her humble wisdom
And what of the proverbial writer who praises
a woman of industry and moral fortitude?

Invisible attributes to the undiscerning fool
but the first requirement
for a man weary of the world's stupidity
and desirous of a fully human being

Love of God
is urged by example in the case
of nearly every Scriptural heroine
(even when they failed)
Eve, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah, even
Rahab when the chips were down

So there it is
Admire a woman for the unseen first
Because haven't we been worshipping a
Heavenly Lover
Who remains unseen until the end comes?

Only then will we see face to Face
But now we must see face to face
Heart to heart being the more difficult
requirement

For some, this conversation is beside
the point

For others, it is the point
at which love blossoms between man and woman
and between man, woman, and God

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Looking At You Closely in a Horizontal Position

Your eyes' depth deepening, a glance
Wisps of gray fog swirling in
Their coffee brown insight,
Soul -caresses

Scattered out around your pillowed head
Your hair's rich mahogany
Across mocha shoulders
and the white sheet

Olive skin, salt and sweet perfume
Face hidden, my lips imbibe
A nourishment complete,
So sweet it hurts

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Life Burns By

The wick blackening
as sooty dreams spiral ceilingward
and flame jumps high
then sputters
Dies

Darkness reclaiming

The wick igniting
as the match's touch brings light
and flame's flickers
Shadow Dance
Love

Bright overwhelming

The candle shrinking
But always dark to light again
and you are mine
As wick to
Flame

New conflagrations

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Lovers' World

I thought of you alone at night
I dreamt of you in broad daylight
I slept with you in purest youth
And kissed your lips in love's one truth

I danced with you beside the flame
I walked with you and knew no shame
I crawled with you when Evil ruled
And crowned you when Love had him fooled

I saw you in the deepest sea
And took you home to be with me
And in my arms I held you, bride
A lovers' world now undenied

I'll touch you once and then again
I'll ask not what there might have been
I'll hold you fiercely 'til the end
When Death himself for one will send

Then I'll say good-bye, or you
And still our love remain, and true
Christ the final Word has spoken
Death the lie, our love unbroken

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Love Has Bad Days

Where do we find it
That moment of joy
Bracketed between the mundane sorrows
Heaped on ourselves, by ourselves?

We know we love

And yet, show our scars
From a dance we thought was love's
Until indifference, masked as hatred,
Stole the show and rang down the curtain

You tired, tired and grouchy
Wondering why I'm not more attentive

I, impatient, unfull of the Spirit
Embracing unease and harshness out of habit

While Christ waits in the wings
For us to quit ad-libbing
And if this doesn't seem like a love song...

Read it again.

Love has bad days, too.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Solomon's Folly

"See, this is what I found, says the Teacher, adding one thingto another to find the sum, which my mind has sought repeatedly, but I have not found. One man among athousand I have found, but a woman amongall these I have not found."

They tell me I must rule you
Subjugate you
Shepherd you firmly
And protect you from yourself

They dare to tell me

They tell me you are inferior
Weaker, I am superior
My pride says, "Amen!"
But alone I ponder their words

We walk before men who judge
Who lay down law as gospel
And neglect Christ's love
(Am I one of them?)

I reject these foolish men
These arrogant and violent men
Mongers after power
They have Satan in their souls

I want to lead, and be led
To love, and be loved
To shepherd, and be shepherded
By love's example

At last I can love and be loved
By a woman after God's own heart
Whose ear inclines to my meager wisdom
As the flower bends to the sun

Oh, lover! Oh, friend!

Your light emanates from the Eternal
And your submission from freedom
I, your husband, wear a crown
Fashioned in your strong and willing hands
Placed there by God's favor

And your choice

Solomon . . . eat your heart out!

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

The Flags of Love

i.

When the breeze flaps the flags
Of lovers and soldiers
And the enemies meet on the field

Blood is spilled

In a game between actors with swords
Love is forfeit
Dreams speed-read
Blind man's reach
Grasped, twisted, and left empty

Who will love the loveless
When the lovers don't find
The mystery they sought?
You lie crumpled
A white dress wrinkled
Like a lover's handkerchief

A wound too deep for words
Still asks

What is it I wanted?
What is it I have lost?

ii.

I listen absently while reading the paper
You chatter of children, and plans for the weekend
You slow, stop, waiting for an answer
Then rise and begin quietly cleaning

Who are you, gentle stranger
Heart patient with love for this fool poet?
The talk I call "chatter" is of children, and us, and God
Reflections of a pure inner heart

Of love

I don't quite apologize
But take you in my arms and listen
While you tell me again....

Once, you were wounded, and I--despite myself--
became your balm of healing

Your golden love God wrapped around my arm
A bracelet of exquisite beauty
I wear proudly before men
I see you dancing in my mind

The gentle maid I married
Raises her banner of love over me
And I surrender, taken by her love

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Carol's Lullaby

Goodnight my beloved, my woman, my self
I pray for your sleeping
That it will bring health
I give you this small kiss
And strange as it seems
I will be with you
To dance in your dreams

Goodnight, my fair lady, my virgin, my bride
I pray for your sleeping
That none be denied
I give you all blessings
and hold all alarms
You'll sleep here safely
Inside my love's arms

Goodnight, my one woman, my mother, my child
I pray for your sleeping
Pure, undefiled
I give you my true love
A soft, hidden nest
Lay your head by my heart
Wrap warm in its rest

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Absence of Meaning

There is a void
Cynics call "love"
Why do sinners
Hunger and thirst?
Answer: the meaning
Or lack thereof
Strong, the image
Man-beast cursed

Violence, decay
Wages, new chrome
Truth twice denied
In this word "love"
Will meaning stay
Wisdom's not home
Words belied
Sacrificed dove

Self's universe
Mammon makes deals
Lust blinds the blind
A self-mutilation
Cling, my darling
Christ's Word reveals
My need, our love
A true revelation

Of their lack of it

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

The Cynic Observes His Sleeping Children

tenderly, gently, softly creep
into the room where children sleep
what are the dreams of youth parading?
what is the sound of childhood fading?

oh how the years pass
doubt building bridges on dreams left undone
oh how the tears pass
the older I get the more quickly they run

easy to mock when life is your toy
but teaching a child to mistrust is no joy
the gods of the godless are unrealistic
faced with faith in the heart of a mystic

oh how the truths pass
guilt building bridges on secret dark deeds
oh how the youths pass
secure in their ignorance, numb to their needs

sleep, my child, you clue from love's page
I hunger for truth yet listen to lies
is there a child, Holy-Ghost-borne
to rescue a man filled with terror and sighs?

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

There'll Be No Marriage in Heaven

Oh, my love, remember.
Christ said there'd be no marriage in heaven.
I know the thought is shocking
For God to take back what He's given
But think on this before you pout
Allow your darling to figure it out

Romance a gift, the best our Lord gave us
(Except for Himself and His Church)
Between us is ravishing love for a life
And desire's fast-found when we search

So imagine a heaven where sex is a bore!
The things God must have awaiting in store!
We'll still be true lovers, but in some new way
Where some great pleasure waits--who can say?
So think on this before you cry
Allow your darling to offer his why

You don't like my reasons and high-soundingtalk?
You don't want to lose me to heavenly love?
Oh, darling, it was heaven who made of us one
And who made all our pleasures of touch so much fun
Heaven will be for eternity
My love is from you and for you from me

This theologian's at loss to not make you cross
So... lets make sweet love! Close the door!

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Trees and Roots and Growing Things

The sudden intake of breath
Seeds blown from the pale tree
And the branches scrape and groan
Like newborns or ancient dying voices
Beating against mortality and
Winter's chill, already upon me

Our voices in a crescendo of sound
Inarticulate, like the seed and the ground
Springing from giving and taking and loss
Our pneuma outbreathed into the other's flesh
With the moan of birth and sigh of death
And all of this springing from merest caress
This the full depth of human tenderness

We share knowledge of mystery's need
Branching from pure ecstasy's creed
As we stand, two trees, trunks blended
Each grown on its own, yet clinging, bound
We interweave to be lost and found
Still I don't know the unknowable you
The brilliantly real and unworldly true

You, the dark trunk of my experience
The whispering leaves of my childhood
Summed up and formed into human likeness
I penetrate, penetrate, penetrate

Down the pale root of beingness
Into the earth's bowels
Searching for significance in the act
And in the completion of the act
Searching for heaven to fill the hurting
And to cope with the knowledge of death
Approaching relentlessly
We grow, twisting together toward the sky

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Epistemology I: Preliminary Categories

Knowledge cannot be wished for.
It must be read about and retained in the reader's mind.
Or it must be experienced and that experience be understood.
Or it must be revealed by One Who Knows.

Example:
Did Adolph Hitler have a mustache?
Answer:
He does in all his photographs. See?

Example:
Q: Is this stove really hot?
Answer:
OUCH! -----

Example:
Q: Is God Good?
Answer:
Define goodness.
Q: Smart-aleck. What is goodness, then?
Answer:
God has written it on your heart.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Epistemology II : The Woman and the Half-Baked Philosopher

She held me tightly, her breath coming
softly. "I love you," she sighed
And she kissed my cheek.

I know that you love me, my dear.
And I am aware that your excitement
is caused partially by that fact,
as well as the hormonal secretions
being released by your body in response
to your thoughts about
my psycho/sexual person.

She drew back, looking at me with a troubled
expression.

"I love you," she said.

"I know that," I repeated, "and I appreciate
the fact that you have invested me with your
passionate attentions.
You are a beautiful woman,
and I can't help but be honored by your
continual adoration."

She continued looking at me in silence. Finally,
"Do you love me," she said.

"That is a question I can't really reply to,"
I honestly answered.
"Love is a subjective term,
filled with subjective meanings.
I appreciate your desire to feel that you are loved by me.
The fact that we have
discussed possible engagement
should indicate to you that love is my intention.
Be assured that my attention is, when directed
toward women and/or sexual things,
completely yours. But
love may be too strong.
It denotes commitment,
which I am unwilling to offer
at this time.
It denotes abandonment...."

She leaned forward suddenly, kissing me
violently, open-mouthed. Her white teeth closed.

I jerked back in pain.

"You bit me!" I said.

Blood was in my mouth. I could
feel the warm trickle on my bottom
lip.

"You know all about love," she said.
"Do you love me?"

"Yes, I love you. I'd die without you, Carol,"
I whispered.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," she said.

I tasted the blood in my mouth.

She reached a Kleenex, dabbed at my lip, then
cradled my head on her shoulder.
"I knew you loved me," she murmured, as if
talking to someone not there.
"But love isn't easy for those who
know how much it hurts."

She kissed me--gently--and I kissed her
back, my cheeks wet with tears.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Blow Away

Tremors

Electricity, you
Send me

Shock

To my system

to the neat order
of my supposedly complete

ordered mind.

Blow me away, darling

And the breath of love
Sweeps me into a pile

At your feet.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Teacher, Teacher

I jump out of my skin
When you touch me with your existence
I cannot learn enough about you
And the brilliant gold
Of you, completely real, real.

History happens,
Regardless of philosophy or books
Events progress inevitably forward

And you exist, teacher
of my heart and mind

I fly off-center,
unsure of things as they are
Without your presence
and your acceptance

Do I speak of you or of God?

His love is so blended with yours,
I sometimes cannot tell

I miss you simply, completely
until your face fills my eyes
and your breath touches my neck, softly

Dearest Carol
My teacher, teacher

What will we learn together next?

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

TheWonder, All Alive

I lean into the wind of you, buffeted
by the playful pressure of your unseen love
And when you're not breathing next
to me, I tremble in the coldness
of a breezeless, cheerless day

I lean into the wonder of you, all alive
Now that you are here, and

In my eyes' sight.

Like God, you endless astonish me
Loving me for no apparent reason
My strength, my woman of God
and this weak "I" your strength,
Strong in another's love

Glory in my weakness
Wind-swept in the arms of Strength

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

This, and This

Hair in my mouth, like hay, or earth

the skin

of her shoulders,
shoulder blades in my hands.

I move a finger, the hair

slides from my mouth.

I clear away the hay from the
pale earth.

A pig roots,

a lover nuzzles.

Sometimes
hard to tell the difference

except for your forgiveness

and

my willingness to learn.

My lips against her neck
and her hands

upon my unshaven face.

We lay side by side

in a world made of this,
and this.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Words and Kisses

Restless, filled with longing
Oh, for Carol's hair upon my face
Our limbs intertwined
In a wordless dance

The gray morning greets me solo
She's gone to work
While my writer's midnight hours
Leave me filled with sleep

But now that she's gone
I want her pure skin against me
Her breath against my neck
Roundness beneath my fingers

I smile at myself, my body
My desires out of sequence
With the way things are;
Carol's gone, and I must go

I rise, laughing
Already thinking of this night
And soft light upon her shoulders
Our shared words and kisses

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

A Toast

Carol, you light the interior paths
Of my mind and my spirit
The places where thoughts wander
And emotions lie, like wine
In the cellar of my keeping

I am not one to pour the wine,
Afraid of its intoxicating ways
And yet with you my innerness is
Uncorked, poured
And I am eager to drink with you.

Where does this inner life go,
And to what purpose, if love
is only our creation?
The lights of mind and
Sparks of heart would mean nothing

Without God.

Drink, then, dear friend
My sister, whom I kiss in heat of day
A taste of grapes upon your breath
And the fiery ferment
Now burning through my veins!

You are the key to my cellar of sorrows
And the doorway to my flesh
Your hair brushes against my lips
And your words
caress my deepest wounds

Dear lover, sweet sister,
Cling to me in this darkening place
Where deeds and words cannot triumph
Your existence trumpets the truth
Of His.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Without A Compass

I have no starting place.
To me, I have always been,
Though will not always be.
Death and sorrow
Cling like shrouds to my earthly hopes.

I have no ending place.
To me, a wanderer in a strange land,
A vagabond filled with restless yearnings,
Each leading nowhere
Except the Final Destination.

I'm a badly written story,
A fragment from ancient papyri,
Written in a language
Which I cannot decipher
Though my very life depends upon it.

I am lost, I admit it,
Without bearings in the desert of love.
I would deny my soul, if I could,
But feel the celestial
And demonic tugs upon me.

I await the morning light,
Always hopeful that light will indeed come
Instead of this fog of unknowing
And the blanketed still form
Of my innocence.

Who can rescue me?
Who has a compass?
You, my darling
The gift God gave me
To help me find myself

And not be afraid

To drown in Oceanic Love.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Sweet Things and Needful

We love as lovers do, hot and sweaty
Or slow and thoughtfully,
Searching one another's faces
For clues as to Love's meaning

We read to one another
Or sit, silent, perhaps immersed
in a book or magazine article
but peering over it once and again
To watch the beloved reading
And pretending not to watch us.

We are growing older, and love
Is not easy at all times
As the children become independent
And the work load grows
And our walk with Christ
At times wearies us

We pray with one another
Or talk, thoughtful, of what
this startling love-life
in Christ is about, your
Eyes of brown going soft
As you look into my soul's secrets

You are the holder of the sweetest things,
And needful to me,
They are more precious than my life.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

Self-Identification

I and I, you and I
I have a difficult time
Remembering
Who is who

How am I identified to "I"?

Blaise and Soren say
the knower is unknown
to himself
and so, unknowing of
all else,

lost in despair or grace.

If "I" doesn't know
I's "who,"
How can
"I" know "You"?

I find my I in I AM,
yet even there,
am not touched
as the Beloved disciple
was touched
head pressed to
the Great Heart,
the warmth of Jesus
against his cheek

And when you touch me,
the simple,
non-sexual touch
of a hard-working wife
for her absent-minded husband
I find myself

Loved by you,
and Another,
And so am at peace,
Self-identified at last.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

On Experimentation with Static Electricity

The day was dry,
the rug thick,
and my fingers upon the brass knob
Emitted a spark that stung

A grimace, a smile,
As hurt led to laughter
And to memory
Which brings its own agenda
To any meeting

As a child, I'd experiment
Scuffing rugs with bare feet,
Or cheap pennyloafers,
(Which offered a bigger bang?)

Reaching out to spark
My shocked brother
Or frazzled Mom,
Plastic toy (nope) or
Steel-topped stove (WoW!)

Later, alone, tucked in,
Huddled under blankets
Tented over my head,
I rubbed the wool folds
And saw the electricity
Dance for me, crackling.

Emerging later,
I'd feel my hair
Standing upright with stored voltage.

Wonder is a spark
And love the scuffling feet,
as entangled we lie, scientists
Beneath these quilts,
Gathering evidence
Dancing the static alive,
An unending experiment,

Creating current
In the face of the dark.

(c) 2000, Jon Trott, all rights reserved

---

["Trees and Roots and Growing Things" -- back to Contents ]