Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

September 8–14 ❘ Holy Places

Poem and discussion centering on how our homes can be holy places that protect us against the wickedness of this world, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 101:22.

Holy Places

I watch the sunset from the corner
of Country Mill and Western Drive
and note how rooflines echo Frary Peak
on Antelope Island—bent pyramids
black against the sky and rimmed
with light like glowing magma.

These homes are little mountains of the Lord,
hollows filled with congregants
who follow daily ritual—eat, sleep,
breathe, read, pray, succor, sacrifice,
speak key words from memory
again and again and again,

and when one forgets, another whispers
cues into inclined ear, restoring the rhythm.
All are connected by lines of light,
tethered to a central point
so as day draws down and wraps
shadow around and between them,

they are not alone. God, who knows
what grows or crumbles within,
holds all loose threads in hand
and pulls them taut, thrums them
like the strings of an instrument
to fill His temples with music.

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September 1–7 ❘ School of Prophets

Poem and discussion centering on how the Lord teaches us about Himself from the time we are very young, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 97:1–5.

School of Prophets

In the church nursery,
we prepare every needful thing:
books and puzzles for gathering,
songs and stories for learning,
animal crackers and water for filling,
toys for winding down.

We give space to the boy
who cries himself to sleep on the floor,
patience to the girl who bowls over
her friends with too much excitement.
We wipe noses and sanitize hands.
We spread laps to sit on and arms to enfold.

Perched on tiny chairs,
we say, “Jesus loves you!”
and each child responds in turn
“I love Jesus!”—bearing simple
testimonies by the spirit of prophecy
foretold for little ones of these last days.

Together we learn scripture
and study precious mysteries
reserved for the pure in heart.

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August 25–31 ❘ Intelligence

Poem and discussion centering on the eternal nature of intelligence, which cannot be created or made, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 93:29–36.

Intelligence

In my mind, this sunset seems to melt
in a puddle of passion, entwined
with the skyline as it blushes pink.

In reality, the sun is 93 million miles away,
blasting through an earthly atmosphere
that cannot register embarrassment.

I am a tiny speck trapped here,
a next-to-nothing body confined
to a far-flung, water-drop planet,

yet I can read faint lines scratched on paper
and by them understand thoughts and acts
performed two-thousand years before my birth.

I can catch insubstantial syllables on air
and through them grieve at someone’s suffering
or ride another’s joy heavenward,

and though sun and sky are not aware
of me below their glowing pas de deux—
though they are not even aware of themselves—

I am aware of them. Tonight,
I imagine they are in love,
blossoming in wistful embrace.

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August 18–24 ❘ Not by Constraint

Poem and discussion centering on the Word of Wisdom, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 89:1–21.

Not by Constraint

To me, the weakest of saints
with little judgment or skill,
is given a word of wisdom

adapted to my capacity—
though I find it hard to self-regulate
and too often try to fill deep emptiness

with something solid,
as though a temporal repast
could stick to spiritual ribs.

When the world entices me
to partake of its delicious, desirable
lies not meant for body or belly,

the Lord says I am free
to see temptation as a clarifying offer,
and choose to leave the Destroyer’s fare
on the table.

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August 11–17 ❘ Light of Christ

Poem and discussion centering on how the light of Christ makes all creation possible, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 88:6–13.

Light of Christ

God said:
Let there be light
and where light is,
life erupts.

On surface,
green plants transmute
sunshine to sweet and fat—
a sacrament all creation craves
for daily communion.

Beneath, earth holds
infrared reserves, vents heat
through deep seabeds to warm
those creeping things
that sun, moon, and stars
can’t reach.

Ultraviolet sanctifies,
anoints our world in ozone
to protect from burning.
X-rays reveal hidden breaks to heal
and uncover corruption
to cut out.

Invisible waves carry words
through air to ears that hear;
spectrum colors stream
to eyes that see messages
in electromagnetic vessels.

Truth sits at my bedside
in a book that dispels darkness
like a lamp in the night.

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August 4–10 ❘ Lost Light

Poem and discussion centering on how light represents Jesus Christ in my life and how I depend upon His light for daily survival, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 86:6–10.

Lost Light

I feel the loss of You in winter’s onset
when days grow short, when cold
saps green-gold life from trees and plants
till their brittle limbs crack
and crumble to dust.

I feel the loss of You at sundown
when darkness floods over me,
leeching color from earth and sky
till hope’s last drop has pooled
and drained below horizon line.

I feel the loss of You when fog
or smoke clogs heaven with ash
and smells of burning
out of time and season
like a misplaced omen.

In gloom, I drink in winking stars,
bright moon, twinkling party lights,
rippling reflections on water,
scattered glitter, lightning bugs,
wood fires in stone hearths,

any light I can scavenge
as I live the minutes, hours,
days until You dawn on me again.

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July 28–August 3 ❘ O That I Were an Angel

Poem and discussion centering on the key of ministering of angels, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 84:26.

O That I Were an Angel

Of all the gleaming keys on God’s ring,
I’d choose the one that frees angels
from behind the door where I daily knock,

not to do as Alma wished,
to blare like brass and shake
all earth as he was shaken,

but to glide silently by
and bear up the broken,
rebuild them from inside out

where now I cannot reach.
If there were some law I could obey
whose predicated blessing

would bind the Lord and His hosts
to my direction, legions would surround
and brace loved ones with scaffolds

of strength they seek yet lack.
Perhaps I sin in my wish,
for the Lord remains boundless.
I remain outside His door knocking.

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July 21–27 ❘ Prayer Always

Poem and discussion centering on the things that get in the way of prayer, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 81:3.

Prayer Always

I’ve sewn myself
a curtain of noise
from 15-second video
clips, audio books
         droning under

the persistent bludgeon
of daily piano practice,
background radio chatter,
and endless threads
         of conversation.

The cacophony swaddles,
         lulls, blunts
         all sensing.

God still hears my muffled
prayer beneath the layers.
He is needle quiet and quick,
piercing even thickest fabric
         with His careful stitches.

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July 14–20 ❘ Storehouse

Poem and discussion centering on the establishment of the Lord’s storehouse for the poor of His people, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 78:3.

Storehouse

There are no shelves here. Instead,
we search each other’s faces
for what we need—

laughter, sympathy, bits of time
for sowing seeds, talents for sharing
cheerful stories or hearing quiet sobs
of loss, gumption for spackling cracks
before they spread, shoulders strong enough
to brace up load bearing walls.

We’ve never erected so much
as a backyard shed, but somehow
here we are building a kingdom
we can’t even comprehend, following
direction by direction of a plan
fed to us one step at a time

till one day all will be woven together
in this haven against the buffeting
and wind—even now, sometimes
I can’t tell where one of us begins
and the other ends.

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July 7–13 ❘ Redeemed

Poem and discussion centering on how we as fallen human beings have still been redeemed by our Savior, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 76:25–26.

Redeemed

I am failing

like Lucifer child of dawn
beloved by Father and Son

I am fallen

like Eve like Adam
in a garden of stasis

I am damned to a standstill

like Alma sobbing
O Jesus thou Son of God
have mercy on me

I am desperate

like Abish yelling to the people
grasping the queen’s fingers

I reach out reach up

like all the works of God’s hands
groping for redemption

I am not Perdition

over whom the Heavens weep
and weep and weep

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June 30–July 6 ❘ Alpha and Omega

Poem and discussion centering on some of the ways the title “Alpha and Omega” applies to the Lord, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 75:1–2.

Alpha and Omega

You are calm,
an encyclopedia from A to Z
explaining precept after precept,
calling and recalling me.

I am ornery,
cussed as a veteran rebel,
refugee of a district burned over
and over by shame.

I am always in the middle,
tugging at threads and trying
to pick little holes in the veil
to see through.

You are always wrapped around me,
shoring up against erosion,
reconfiguring pieces to fit,
from beginning to end.

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June 23–29 ❘ Father of Lights

Poem and discussion centering on one of God’s titles “Father of Lights” as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 67:9.

Father of Lights

I remember being in a sunny kitchen
wearing a dress trimmed in rickrack,
small and angry, unheard in my demands
for a graham cracker. I must have been two.
No matter how I probe, I can’t peer back
before that memory’s edge,

but I existed. I’ve seen pictures
of a baby shower flooded with pink,
my dark head tumbled in dreams
while women around me ate cake.

Before that, I pulsed inside my mother,
trained to her heartbeat
and soaking warmth like an eye
drawing sun through a closed lid.

I lived even before that
in a place adjacent to this world
that no one remembers
but yet still is. From there,
Father set us little lights free
into this world.

I yearn for forgotten radiance.
I toe my way forward, fingers grazing
the wall as I move and feel about
to flip on the switch.

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June 16–22 ❘ Small Things

Poem and discussion centering on the small and simple things of the world that bring great things to pass, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 64:33.

Small Things

When you were a child,
you drew close and held me still
with your small voice,
soft as a puppy nuzzling in
for caress and kiss.
You wanted to grow down,
you said, not up—
to be a baby again, always
swaddled and warm,
just this side of sleep.

Against your word, you grew
year by year, bit by bit,
sprouting gangly limbs
and facial fuzz, then whiskers
and just enough wisdom
to carry you away from me
on to bigger things.

But even from here I can see
it’s the little things in you
that catch light like the mother lode—
how you offer a word
and gift a smile to shift
someone’s heart,
someone’s whole world.

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June 9–15 ❘ It Mattereth Not

Poem and discussion centering on my belief that there are many ways to engage in the work of the gathering, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 62:4–5.

It Mattereth Not

I could drive the back roads home,
a slow and winding route designed
to explore nooks and crannies
of a curious countryside,
and stop for chats at every fruit stand
or world’s largest ball of twine.

I could stand in long lines
at the airport, trading stories
with other passengers bumped
from flight to later flight,
then delve deep into theology
with my seatmate in 27E.

I could stay in this room
and zoom to your screen
as sudden as angelic annunciation
bearing news or soothing balm
of words spoken in due season.
There are a lot of ways

to get from here to there.
If it doesn’t matter to you,
it doesn’t matter to me.

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June 2–8 ❘ Anxiously Engaged

Poem and discussion centering on the Lord’s command that we use our agency to do many good things in this life, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 58:27–28.

Anxiously Engaged

I’m not going to nag you
to practice the piano.
It’s your choice whether you stagger
over the keyboard or glide.

I shouldn’t have to command you
to hamper your dirty clothes
or order your personal chaos
to within stone’s throw of serenity.

You haven’t earned glory, laud,
or honor by loading the dishwasher,
the bare minimum shared burden
in this unit of Zion society,

but I will thank you for it anyway.
I’ll help you do your homework
and remind you to set your alarms.
I’ll laugh at your rough-draft stories

and applaud impromptu recitals.
I’ll attend every overlong, under-amped
performance you try your hand at.
I might nudge a bit when a neighbor needs

a half-load of topsoil shoveled
on the hottest day of the year,
but you will decide on your own
to make it a quorum service project.

You will be the one to notice a friend
who misses the school bus all week
and, without being told, stop by to visit
with donuts and a comic book.

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May 26–June 1 ❘ Q and A

Poem and discussion centering on the seeming ease with which Joseph Smith received revelation, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 77:1–15.

Q and A

I sometimes wish I could be
like Joseph

and receive answers to my questions
poured straight from Heaven
into an overflowing cup,
then gorge on words of comfort
served up in large portions.

I am not a prophet
called to lay out God’s feast
and invite the starving world
to come and eat,

but little ones like me
can still be filled
with crumbs that rain
from the Master’s table.

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May 19–25 ❘ Brother Parley

Poem and discussion centering on Parley P. Pratt’s visit to the Shakers as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 49:1.

Brother Parley

Brash, fearless, heedless, like Peter of old,
shaker of coattails against Shakers,
runner from would-be jailers
and flummoxed bulldogs—

you say what I wish I had courage to say
if I weren’t always judging
the weight of bold testimony
against politeness and etiquette.

Perhaps you are the kind of preacher
who unleashes the good word
like a firehose on a house aflame.
Perhaps I am the kind who looses
feathered words and never knows
where they fly or how they land.

Neither of us has time to lollygag.
You roar me to repentance, and then
as guileless as a newborn lamb
invite me, if I’m so inclined,
to join you in a foot race.

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May 12–18 ❘ Gifts

Poem and discussion centering on what defines a gift of the Spirit as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 46:8–9.

Gifts

If all things are spiritual
to the Lord, then all gifts
are of the Spirit:

blood flowing through my veins
bears a flood of relief
when I break a fast;

heavy lilac heads wash me
in scent and wring out
memories of distant Aprils;

my scalp tingles at finger touch
when anointed as precursor
to warm, healing hands;

an early morning chickadee
outside my bedroom window
diligently pings my ear,

calling, calling, calling me
to recognize the Spirit’s blessing
in every sensation.

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May 5–11 ❘ Signs of the Times

Poem and discussion centering on the signs that will precede the Lord’s Second Coming as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 45:39–44.

Signs of the Times

Stars again are choosing to fall,
jumping from safe refuge of heaven
to wander in wilderness.

Sunny days grow cold,
hearts are veiled by vapor
and blind to light,

and even refugees to a holy city
feel their foundations rattle
by test of trembling quakes.

But we also see spring leaves
unfurl like little ensigns
to signal summer is nigh

and sweet fruit will soon
be ready for the gathering.

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April 28–May 4 ❘ Law of Consecration

Poem and discussion centering on the introduction of the Law of Consecration as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 42:32.

Law of Consecration

My last child before an emptied nest
is doing homework at the kitchen table.
He is without guile, easily frustrated,
unable to hide it. But he plows on:
reads history while listening to ragtime,
practices chords on piano and banjo,
bakes chocolate chip cookies after school
for a friend who needs a treat. We laugh
at old home movies he plotted and played out
with older brothers, then he goes down to bed alone.

I wonder at my loans coming due—the acres
of good ground I planted, the drops of soul
I wrung out to water them, all for others to reap.
This is my consecration to the poor
that cannot be taken back,
the child of my old age on the altar,
my Samuel sent to answer the Lord.

God calls me to wake and arise,
but I linger in warm dreams,
wanting just five minutes more.

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