Postscript

 Haiku of commission

John writes his postscript.

Some disciples go fishing.

The fish elude them.

Daybreak. A man stands

upon the shore: Cast your nets

on the other side!

The nets are weighed down.

So many fish. They struggle

to haul them on board.

It must be the Lord!

Fisher-disciple Peter

jumps in, wades ashore.

A charcoal fire

with bread and fish. The stranger

offers them breakfast.

None ask, Who are you?

Strange observation; must be

different, somehow.

Thrice Peter is asked

Simon, do you love me? He

is hurt. Lord, you know.

You know I love you,

Peter affirms. Feed my sheep;

follow where I lead.

Risen Jesus, Lord:

give us courage to follow,

even unto death.

© Ken Rookes 2022

Incognito

 Haiku of the impudent answer

Jesus is in Tyre,

a coastal city up north

in Gentile country.

He is travelling

incognito, needs a break.

But the word gets out.

A woman finds him.

Her daughter is sick; she wants

Jesus to heal her.

The woman bows down

at his feet. She’s desperate,

begging him to help.

You’re not one of us.

I’ve been sent to feed the kids,

not to feed the dogs.

The woman insists,

impudent. Even the dogs

get to eat the scraps!

Jesus laughs out loud.

Quite right, great answer! Go home,

your daughter is healed.

Holiday over,

Jesus makes his way back home;

brings blessing and hope.

They were astounded.

At his hands the deaf and mute

find healing and life.

© Ken Rookes 2021

Dining

Haiku for the hungry

Seeking solitude,

he found a deserted place,

but the crowd followed.

Sometimes it’s too much,

we all need time for ourselves;

space to think and pray.

Seeing the people,

he was stirred with compassion,

reaching out to heal.

As the sun went down

his friends spoke: Send them away,

they need to buy food.

They need not depart,

I have fed their souls, we’ll find

food for bodies, too.

They brought it to him,

the five loaves and the two fish;

all the food they had.

That should do, he said.

as he blessed and broke the loaves.

They shared them around.

So many people,

so many ways to hunger;

Jesus feeds them all.

© Ken Rookes 2020

Promise asnd hope

Haiku for the shepherdless

They came back to him,

eager, full of their stories,

telling what they did.

We all need a break,

let’s find a deserted place,

away from the crowds.

They went in a boat,

trying to get clean away;

didn’t really work.

They watched them leaving

made haste on foot, got there first

to welcome the boat.

They were a great mob,

like sheep without a shepherd.

His heart ached for them.

And so he taught them

many things. Then he fed them;

meeting their hunger.

And then they sailed on,

landed at Gennesaret;

still more people came.

Wherever he went,

from across the whole region,

they came to be healed.

He came among them

with the prospect of freedom,

a promise of hope.

© Ken Rookes 2018

Give us this bread always

 

They ask for signs,

but fail to embrace
the sign that was given.
They were in happy agreement
when it was all about eating
and feeding upon crusty loaves.
On those days belief came easy
and their hearts had surged,
hoping, expectant.
But seeking, receiving and dining
on the food that endures for eternal life,
(whatever that means),
is another thing entirely.
 
Give us this bread always.
The request comes easily,
with eager, outstretched hands,
but few opt to stay around
to receive the answer.
And the sign,
despite its stark simplicity,
perhaps because of it,
is passed by, unnoticed and ignored.
Mostly.
 

 

 

© Ken Rookes 2015

Hunger

Hunger

There’s no escaping a hungry crowd.

Even in deserted places there will be no hiding;

they find him.

To be fair, in our story, it was the disciples

who articulated the need for food.

Maybe the crowd has already

had its metaphorical hunger

satisfied.

Jesus fed me once.

I was hungry; for something

I couldn’t even name.

A spiritual something, an answer,

perhaps, to my bewilderment,

my anger,

my uncertainty.

At least, I think it was Jesus.

Dining on his story

I caught glimpses of hope,

along with tracings of grace.

These intimations

proved food enough to satisfy,

and in time, to value

both the uncertainty

and the anger.

© Ken Rookes 2014.

Feed my sheep

It’s simple,

Simon.
Yes, we all stuff up,
we all disappoint
and let each other down.
Yes, yours was a big one. Three times.
But it’s a divine principle,
you should have grasped it by now.
One of a handful
that the Master revealed in the few years
that he walked among us.
Like the cycle of death and resurrection,
the centrality of love,
the wonder of God’s presence,
living as God’s children,
and the primacy of grace.
Forgiveness, new beginnings.
The idea that losers become winners;
that, freed from the depression of failure,
and made new in God’s Spirit,
everyone can take part in the work
of the kingdom. You too.
Feed God’s sheep,
take care of the lambs,
share the love,
spread the good news. It’s simple;
Simon.

© Ken Rookes