Lamentation to adulation

Every psalmist’s perilous journey

by Ken Sehested

Blessed One, whose name we dare not speak, but of whose
Presence we dare not remain silent, we stand before you with
hearts in shreds and hands frozen.

We know that we creatures were made for praise and thanksgiving.
We recognize that gratitude is our natural home. Read more ›

Thanksliving

A poem for Thanksgiving

by Ken Sehested

Gratitude is surely among the precious few,
truly-renewable energy sources available. The
hearts of both giver and receiver grow larger
in the process. Saying thanks, especially beyond
the demands of simple etiquette, is among the
most accessible violence-reduction strategies. Read more ›

Ah, grief, my importune friend

Prose poem in the face of electoral dread

by Ken Sehested

“You've kept track of my every toss and turn through the sleepless nights,
each tear entered in your ledger, each ache written in your book.”
—Psalm 56:8 (The Message.)

Ah, grief, my importune friend, who has brought you to my table,
spoiled my bread, tainted my cup, directed my eyes to the psalmist’s sigh
Read more ›

Weather channelling prayer

Prayer in advance of a hurricane

by Ken Sehested
Written while thinking of a friend in Cuba

I am up late, glued to
the weather channel, tracking
Irene’s ruinous wake. Apparently
the storm is going north of you.
My furrowed face relaxes. Read more ›

More is at work than passes for the news

Pentecost Sunday 2020 prose poem

by Ken Sehested

Almost every breakthrough begins with a breakdown. Goodness is not thereby assured; then again, neither is our breath, day by day.

We hope to be effective; but our perseverance is not hitched to efficacy. We insert ourselves, compassionately and intelligently, because that's who we are. (Or at least who we are becoming.)

The little flock of Jesus has a larger, farther horizon. If and when we are faithful, it is only because we have heard and heeded the Word considered “foolish” by the logic of the world as is now constituted. Read more ›

Hallelujahs and heartaches, too

On the 50th anniversary of Rev. Francisco Rodés’ ordination

by Ken Sehested

What a day! What a day! Not to
mention a year, fifty of them piled
head-to-toe, some of them a bit
fuzzy now (thank God!), others
like constellations whose radiance
still guides during dark nights
of the soul. Little did you know,
Read more ›

Hallelujahs and heartaches, too

On the 50th anniversary of Rev. Francisco Rodés’ ordination

by Ken Sehested

What a day! What a day! Not to
mention a year, fifty of them piled
head-to-toe, some of them a bit
fuzzy now (thank God!), others
like constellations whose radiance
still guides during dark nights
of the soul. Little did you know,
Read more ›

The spokes of grief spin on the axis of hope

by Ken Sehested

These are most surely the days to trace the shape of
hope in the swirl of despair: to reassure children, to
encourage harried parents, to tip big-time, to speak out
loudly against vacuous leaders, to praise medical
professionals, to acknowledge teachers who are
working harder than ever (with exponentially less
notice), to celebrate cleaner air (a foretaste of what
Read more ›

Prepping for Ash Wednesday

A supplication

by Ken Sehested

Return to your heart, O you transgressors,
and hold fast to the One who made you.
Stand with the Beloved and your footing
shall be firm. Rest in the Merciful One
and you shalt be buoyed. Read more ›

What we need is here

Meditation on mayhem while sitting shiva

by Ken Sehested
All Hallow's Eve 2018

Introduction.This prose poem’s origin began upon confrontation
with three recent tragedies spurred by white nationalists in my
country: pipe bombs sent to public figures opposing our nation’s
nefarious governance; the killing of two African Americans in a
Kentucky grocery store after the shooter was unable to enter a
black church for the same purpose; and then a successful, deadly
Read more ›