Poetry
-
Hymn to The Reconciler
I worked on this sonnet throughout Holy Week but, as my organist schedule would have it, did not have a chance to revise and publish it until now. So, here you are: a short contemplation on the incarnate Christ. *(Forgive my limping poetic meter…I prefer to conduct my poems in a musical pattern rather than Continue reading
-
VIII. The Demon-Possessed Boy (9:14-29)
Horrors.There is no other wordFor the things I have seen,And sat helplessly by—Useless. My own son, ripped from my armsBy a force I could not fight. But I am his father!Guilt stabs at me like a knife,But how can I defend him whenThe enemy, the invaderMakes war from within? My own flesh and blood,My beloved, Continue reading
-
VII. The Blind Man (8:22-26)
Touch me, someone,That I might know you’re there! Greet me, anyone,So I am not aloneIn this dark, dark, darkness. I am begging,Begging for more than foodOr loose coins. It is light that I am starving for—The light of a presenceA light to show me outOf this eternal, internalDarkness. My heart yearnsEach morning and evening—Both are Continue reading
-
VI. The Deaf Man (7:31-37)
I cannot tellWhat these gestures mean.Why do you all waveYour hands at me? I can only guess atThe words on your lipsAnd can only makeVain attemptsTo do as you do,To speak as you speak. By your wrinkled browsAnd worried looks,I know I am failing. I fail also to understand.Where are you taking me?Who is this man? Continue reading
-
V. The Paralytic (2:1-12)
People just keep goingAround, across, Any way they can.Directionless,They do not notice the manWho motionless,Waits. They step over me, Their limbs stretching usefullyEven as they swarm the over-full room. But what can I do?Nothing but what I am doing:Lying here. Still, in one shattered piece,I feel the full weight of despairAnd the weight of the Continue reading
-
IV. The Leper (1:40-45)
Unclean,I hide myself.Lest I am seenAnd sent away,Purged from the cityWhile dogs and rats are allowedTo stay and hide in its alleys, Infect its crevices. But they sayI am unclean.I do not argue;I am one of the twice-cursed onesWho cannot hide his sinsBeneath a cloak ofSmooth, clear skin,The whitened sepulchreOf an unblemished face. I am Continue reading
-
III. Jairus’ Daughter (5:35-43)
As so often happens, life took priority over poetry. Indeed, I fear this is one of the reasons I am not destined to be the next Wordsworth or Dickinson; I am too quick to set my writing aside. Still, it is a least a little to my credit that I never abandon my writing forever! Continue reading
-
I. The Man with the Withered Hand (Mark 3:1-6)
My bones ache with hunger.My eyes strain from seeking.But seeking what? Waiting for what?For nothing,For who would help me today?This is the sad irony of the Lord’s Day. Synagogues bustle and pockets are heavy,But hearts remain empty—Even more empty than my hand, For at least I would seek to fill mine. Another sad irony.I cannot.I Continue reading
-
Immediately: Poetry for the Gospel of Mark
In studying the Gospel of Mark in college, I was struck by the recurrent use of the word “immediately” and turned to poetic reflection. Now, as both of my churches journey through Mark, I am again encountering the immediacy of the Incarnate Word. The Gospel of Mark presents Jesus in the fulness of mystery and Continue reading
-
No Silent Night Was This
Sweet “Stille Nacht” is but a prayer;No silent night was this, When angel hosts announced on highThe birth of God with Us. Holy, yes, but earthly too,No silent night was this,When with one final virgin cryLabor turned to bliss. ‘Tis but a late-come comfort wish;No silent night was thatWhich brought the babe but born to Continue reading
-
Conjunction
Unlike that lone first star of Christmas nightThis union burns expectedly above, But like that light, this, too, shines highest, brightAnd may still testify of searing love. Drawn closer by the work of innovation,Man captures and contains this far-off flare.How like and unlike the flame of incarnationThat, inverse, came to earth to draw us near. Continue reading
-
Thank Goodness for the Laundry Pile
My work has gone mostly remote again, which at first was something of a relief. After barely a day of emails instead of interaction, though, I found myself going quite mad. Without a regular schedule, I have far too much space for overthinking, indecision, and wandering aimlessly between tasks. Fortunately, just as I was nearing Continue reading
Recent Posts
- Last Things First: January–February 2026
- Waiting and Watching
- Don’t Know What to Post? Try This!
- The Freedom of a Lower Reading Goal
- A Little Theology of Exercise: Enjoying Christ in Body and Soul
Subscribe for Free
Support
If you enjoy my work and would like to keep the music playing and words flowing, consider buying her a coffee using the button below.
Social Media
Ryanne Molinari 