Stand still and come what may

Stand still and come what may

1920 1439 Robert Rife

Stand still and

come what may, they tell me.

Perhaps then I will stand still,

with feet propped against

this little flock of earthen stones

and let the wind jig in my toes.

Here I will wither happily,

like the gathering ducks,

pooled and waiting.

I’ll whistle for the twisting

roots of soil

where hide promises of cradle and tomb.

I will vie for the sweeter attentions of

womb-sung songs with words,

cramped, waiting, unborn.

I think I’ll wait for their release

from promises

made for two

and let spring’s last push

seduce summer’s agenda.

The coughing day-brown hillside

counsels me

to be more than I was,

but less quick to

be more than what could be.

Leave that to the rest of us, they tell me.

I think I’ll just wait here.


 

Robert Rife

My friends think me complicated. My employer thinks me talented but at times, troublesome. God, and my wife see me as I am - a philosopher-poet with a rather circuitous journey of life and faith, the music and worship minister at Yakima Covenant Church, a singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, poet and writer. I am a graduate from Spring Arbor University with an M.A. in Spiritual Formation and Leadership. These poems, and my life, are dedicated to those places where life, liturgy, theology and the arts intersect with and promote spiritual formation – who we are becoming. Join me on this journey to word-land. Maybe we'll find each other there and share a story or two.

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