March 23–29 ❘ Uraeus
Poem and discussion centering on the pharaoh of Egypt during Israelite Exodus, inspired by Exodus 1:22.
Ureaus
Pharaoh condescended
to let the girl babies live—
he saw no threat in them.
He didn’t suspect deceit from midwives
whose training in deliverance
was first and second nature.
His all-seeing eye overlooked mothers
with something to hide and sisters
guarding against the destroyer.
His own daughter easily evaded
his defenses. She drew his downfall
from the Nile and brought it
straight home to his bosom.
His whole life,
Pharaoh mistook women.
He little regarded the seed of Eve
and their deep-seated enmity
for snakes.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
March 16–22 ❘ Type and Shadow
Poem and discussion centering on Joseph of Egypt as a type and shadow of the Savior, inspired by Genesis 37–45.
Type and Shadow
Joseph seems like a regular guy
with a normal life and plans
for the future. He has a family
he didn’t choose but loves
anyway with that kind of love
a child gives permanently
to the people he builds his story on.
He’s learned a few things—
how to trust God and make
the best of a bad situation,
how to offer the undeserving
a chance to prove
and reprove themselves,
how not to spoil a big finish
by rushing past pain
to get to the end.
But other than that,
he seems like anyone else.
Or rather, what anyone could be
if we paid attention to who’s behind us
catching sun and casting
long, deep shadows forward.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
March 9–15 ❘ Many Colors
Poem and discussion centering on how stories in Genesis prefigure our own longings for redemption, inspired by Genesis 37:3–4.
Many Colors
Clothes don’t make us,
though they hint at possibilities,
like prophetic dreams
and well-chosen baby names.
One could wear blue as sign
of sadness or love of open sky,
red as show of pride
or badge of shame. Black
and white at times spell out
internal conflict, or ombré
when no frequency of visible
light quite defines ambivalence.
Yahweh offers me a garment
of refracted glory—some day.
I struggle in wrappings
of temporary self-expression
and shifting guise, reluctant
to discard withered fig leaves
and be seen naked.
When does it end, this trip
and fall from sheltered garden,
this abduction into Egypt?
When will this ark, driven along rivers
and floods, reach my land of promise?
I long to look up and see God
running to meet me, to feel
tears on my neck as He weeps
a good long while.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
March 2–8 ❘ Leah at the Edges, Rachel’s Response
Poem and discussion centering on Leah and Rachel’s relationship as sisters and wives of Jacob, inspired by Genesis 29–30.
Leah at the Edges
If you measured my life
by low points and high,
all my loves and jealousies
recorded as scripture of extremes,
you’d miss times of stillness,
daily cycles when I fed
and clothed, cleansed
and smoothed out roughness.
You wouldn’t see the hours
I bore with wounds one can’t
ask friends to fast and pray for
because there is no cure for life,
no dramatic rescue for one
merely stuck in everyday mud.
But maybe you don’t need
to feel the weight of all this water
underneath each cresting wave.
Maybe there is truth enough
to glean from spare detail
and beauty enough at the edges
to sketch a face with tender eyes
that you can be pleased with,
as though you had returned
from a long journey
and seen the face of God.
Rachel’s Response
Maybe our father persuaded Leah,
told her men only want
one thing—maybe two—
and if she gave those to Jacob,
he’d come around.
She was young and naive,
as I was. I can’t blame her
for loving Jacob past reason,
as I did.
But was it a small thing
that she took my husband,
my promised place as the first?
Wasn’t it enough that she mocked
my famine with her fullness,
but her wolves must also devour
my lamb? As older sister,
she should have protected me,
not turned enemy.
In the end, it doesn’t matter
where fault first took hold—
in my father, my sister, me.
We forgave. We lived and let live.
And when I died,
you should have heard Leah.
Her sobs emerged from a place
deeper than sorrow.
Her groans poured forth unbidden,
as though she were giving birth
to another chance for deliverance.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
February 23–March 1 ❘ Lot’s Argument
Poem and discussion centering on being in the world but not of the world, inspired by Genesis 19:1–26.
Lot’s Argument
I don’t ask for much—not fame,
power, or extraordinary calling.
I don’t covet wide acquaintance.
I enjoy little things: comfortable home,
loyal family, safe living. I want love
and respect only from those I love
and respect. I’d readily leave next-door
strangers to the consequence
of their own lusts,
but I’m caught by contract
between what I want and what I owe.
God gives me no out—I must love
my neighbor and my enemy.
I must deal with this smutty,
smudged-up world against inclination.
So forgive me if I seem irritated,
a bit reluctant to strike a bargain.
I’m trying to fit an ill-suited bill,
testing ways to defend faith
from casual vandals and violators
without becoming a target,
working out what it means
to serve and survive.
I just need a little more time
to finagle a way through this contradiction
before it all blows up in my face.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
February 16–22 ❘ Multitudes
Poem and discussion centering on the Abrahamic covenant, inspired by Genesis 15:5.
Multitudes
My children are seedlings still
with roots tentatively threading earth
and branches spreading heavenward.
I can’t yet imagine grandchildren,
much less progeny innumerable
as dust,
but they will come.
As Abraham’s child, I am heir
to new names and promised lands.
I already bear little cuts that come
from pruning and practicing
sacrifice.
My family will grow
like an aspen stand intertwined
at base though miles apart on surface.
We will multiply like rust-red buds
bursting in spring, like gold-coin leaves
shed to forest floor in autumn.
I must cultivate carefully.
How many tender ears will hear
the words I say to one child now
withered by sorrow? Look
toward the night sky. Count
all the stars in heaven
if you can.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
February 9–15 ❘ Building an Ark
Poem and discussion centering on preparing for the spiritual floods in life, inspired by Genesis 6–7.
Building an Ark
I’ve hammered planks together more or less
according to instructions from the Lord,
and stretched to meet my cubits, I confess,
by asking Him to multiply the boards.
Three stories are complete within my hull,
chock-full of needful things in careful stacks.
I’ve pitched both in and out my mortal soul
to keep the world from leaking through the cracks.
I’ve set a single window at the top
so I can let in light as need may be,
and cut a door so I can open up
to gather all my dear ones near to me.
I’ve kept all God’s commands as understood,
so surely He won’t need to send the flood.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
February 2–8 ❘ God Weeps
Poem and discussion centering on God’s example of righteous parenthood, inspired by Moses 7:28-37.
God Weeps
Parent of all parents,
for whom there is no end
to posterity, is your grief
also eternal?
Your tears once rushed
like flood from heaven,
all earth swept by swells
as you stretched wide to rending.
I have seen my own child suffer
and have refused to be comforted,
as if to accept peace
meant to abandon hope.
Teach me how to mourn
and not drown. Show me
a promised land. Help me hear
joy singing faintly in the distance.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
January 26–February 1 ❘ Acceptable Offering
Poem and discussion centering on what constitutes an acceptable offering to the Lord, inspired by Moses 6:3; Psalm 23.
Acceptable Offering
Scripture means little
till you’ve lived it,
inhabited its words
like a way-house,
wrapped yourself in sorrow
like a second-hand jacket.
In the midst of affliction,
my table holds
one broken heart laid out,
one contrite spirit sliced thin.
I taste only ashes
of this single sacrifice.
I know it isn’t good to focus
so wholly on one need
to the hollowing out
of all others, but I feel
like a foolish child, slow to speak
and slower to understand.
Perhaps if I give
every open wound,
every raw nerve and scrap of hope
within me, it will be enough
and my offering will be
acceptable to the Lord.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
January 19–25 ❘ Cain
Poem and discussion centering on Eve’s relationship with her son Cain, inspired by Genesis 4:1–16 and Moses 5:16–41.
Cain
From the beginning,
he was willful and always
wanting more.
Gardener that I am,
I hoped to train his nature
toward stubborn love of God
and desire for growing good.
At first, it seemed to take—
his arguments with Abel ended.
He worked the land, married well,
made outward offerings to the Lord.
But something inside was amiss,
something no mother imagines
when she gazes into newborn eyes
and heaven binds her heart
with love’s first green tendrils.
I thought I’d learned all about hard
choices and the sorrow
consequence
can deliver, but now
I am as God,
knowing good and evil
offer boughs of heavy fruit
to every hungry heart.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
January 12–18 ❘ Spiritual Creation
Poem and discussion centering on spiritual versus physical creation, inspired by Genesis 2:4–5, Moses 3:4–5, and Abraham 4.
Spiritual Creation
When darkness blurs hard lines
before dawn brings all to focus,
I counsel with God
to create in spirit a new day:
eat good food
keep home clean
speak in kindness
follow Christ
Then I go and do
half the plan:
eat what I shouldn’t
don’t sweep up all that falls
lose heart and mind to moment
reach breaking point and cry
Jesus, Son of God,
have mercy on me!
Day sinks again to dusk.
I return and report my chaos.
Hard line upon line upon line
I lay at Father’s feet.
He takes each stripe and heals
what I have done. He gives
another day for me to rise
and create in spirit and body.
He names me Good.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
January 5–11 ❘ Jochebed
Poem and discussion centering on Moses’s mother Jochebed and Moses’s vision of God, inspired by Moses 1:9–22.
Jochebed
I follow Moses too closely—
a mother who watches secretly
from across a great distance
will sometimes hover.
The night I saw him in midst of vision,
God’s glory was veiled from me
though it burned like reflected bonfire
from my son’s face,
but I saw the shining man afterward,
gilded pharaoh in painted pomp.
I feared Rameses had found him
at last. Hands pressed to mouth,
I cried in my mind,
You cannot have him!
The being sprouted claws and tore
like furious falcon-headed god
screaming for blood.
Such bitterness I hadn’t seen
since the day I set my baby in the river
in desperate last effort to save him.
Knee-deep in mud and obscured
by whispering reeds,
God heard every word I drummed
unceasingly at heaven’s door.
He answered then
as He does now.
I suppose He knows well
how to watch and hover
and wait for the moment when
a child finally cries out.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
December 29–January 4 ❘ Another Exodus
Poem and discussion centering on how the recurring theme of exodus has formed the character of God’s chosen people down through the ages, inspired by Exodus 14–17.
Another Exodus
Maybe Laman and Lemuel thought Moses
was a founding myth or metaphor
for Israel’s will to live free.
Maybe they believed he really had lived—
a trickster who twisted free of Egypt
to become ruler by dint of cunning—
but who can divine embellishment
from truth after centuries of retellings?
So in the wilderness,
they mourned flesh pots of home
and wondered that Jerusalem
should lack graves enough to hold them.
They murmured at every setback,
grew complacent in success.
Nephi took manna literally.
When he hungered, he made a bow
and hunted. When he reached the sea,
he dug for ore, forged tools, built a boat.
He believed and went and did
as though he could part water
and make a highway to the promised
land by filling the ocean spoonful
by spoonful with dry earth
at the Lord’s command.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
December 22–28 ❘ Like a Fire Burning
Poem and discussion centering on the growth of great things from small beginnings, inspired by The Living Christ.
Like a Fire Burning
All great things grow from small—
crackling flickers fed with tinder
and sheltered from crosswinds,
embers blown back to life
after rain,
a swaddled child born in a cave
who grew in stature,
received grace for grace
unto fullness of light in one short
mortal life seemingly snuffed out,
but not really. The Lord
does not simmer on a back burner.
He gains, gathers, restores.
His eyes are like flame,
countenance like noonday.
I am as yet blind,
but I’m feeling the way forward,
following His heat.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
December 15–21 ❘ Proclamation to the World
Poem and discussion centering on the centrality of family in our Heavenly Father’s plan of happiness, inspired by The Family Proclamation.
Proclamation to the World
Children’s children are the crown of old men;
and the glory of children are their fathers.
Proverbs 17:6
The glory of God is intelligence:
element organized before the world was,
begotten spirit offspring birthed
from darkness to light.
The glory of God is immortality, eternal lives:
brought to pass by Savior turning hearts
from inward search to outward reach,
parents and posterity gathering close.
The glory of the Lord is a heritage:
a quiver full of children brighter than steel,
sharper than arrows flying
to world’s uttermost part with purpose.
The glory of the Lord fills the earth:
His family fills the whole earth
from eternity to eternity,
worlds without end.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
December 8–14 ❘ Stubborn
Poem and discussion centering on the importance of remaining humble enough to do whatever the Lord asks of us, inspired by Official Declarations 1 and 2
Stubborn
It’s hard to be humble
with enemies who hate
when you know you’re right
and to cooperate feels like cowardice,
like lying prone under a drawn sword.
It’s hard to be humble
with friends who love
when they claim you’re wrong
and to listen feels like faithlessness,
like letting go of the iron rod.
Thank God for prophets,
patient breakers of dams
who risk inundation to set free pure,
rolling waters that lift us higher,
push us nearer to the kingdom.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
December 1–7 ❘ Disembodied
Poem and discussion centering on why we might miss our physical bodies in the spirit world, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 138:50.
Disembodied
For Mom
How long was it before you missed
the pain-wasted shell you left at death,
that vessel you pushed through years
propped by walker and wheelchair
and tried to drag from bed to finish up
your sewing the day you slipped away?
When Dad met you at the threshold,
did you long to fill your arms with his familiar warmth
and hear his heart thumping under your ear?
Do you now wish for the smell of pies baking
or miss the prickle of salivation in reply?
Can you sing hymns without vocal cords,
play preludes without fingers,
do anything but silently hope?
Maybe you are already risen,
well-rested and refreshed, chatting
with Mother Eve’s other faithful daughters.
Maybe you accompany angel choirs
or offer to hem new white robes
for anyone who asks.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
November 24–30 ❘ Blindsided
Poem and discussion centering on how fulfilment of prophecy can take us by surprise, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 135:1.
Blindsided
I am surprised
by predictable things.
Christmas washes over me
like an annual tsunami.
Daylight saving time ends
and bewilders me with darkness.
Old age creeps up and yells boo
from my mirror. When death
strikes even the elderly,
I am stunned by a life cut short
too soon.
Joseph went like a lamb
to the slaughter and Saints
grieved at his unexpected end.
Disciples of Jesus were shocked
by direct fulfillment of prophecy.
I will probably stare slack-jawed
when He comes again,
scarcely able to believe
what I was told all along.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
November 17–23 ❘ Glossary
Poem and discussion centering on the persecution of the Saints in Missouri, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 101:1–2.
Glossary
Zion:
rolling green hills bought
for a price, waiting still
to be redeemed;
the clean; the worthy;
the pure in heart, yet
not all
Saints:
just people who are
(1) ecstatic with hope
(2) torn by trial
(3) riddled with sin
(4) purified by fire
Neighbor:
one whose children played
with yours in town, but
who with the mob now
kicks in your door at midnight
Persecuted:
to scrape pine tar and blood-
specked feathers from raw,
naked skin shedding
blistered top layer
Expelled:
to sit on the riverbank wrapped
in sheets of rain and curling
smoke amidst gutted innards
of your former home; to scramble
from fire to fire seeking lost family
Prophet:
one who worries over the future
but sees only as far ahead
as God appoints; child
who trusts his Father’s call
and walks forward into the dark
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
November 10–16 ❘ A Man Like Ourselves
Poem and discussion centering on how Jesus Christ is a real, physical being, inspired by Doctrine and Covenants 130:1.
A Man Like Ourselves
If Jesus had no form or beauty
for me to desire—if he had
imperfect teeth and a wide-
gapped, crooked smile,
if he were plain, slight,
or bald, with a freckled
complexion, sunburnt nose,
and distinguishing mole—
he’d still have ears and eyes and limbs,
laugh lines and forehead wrinkles,
skin that’s bled and healed,
scars inside and out.
If he met me at the front gate
with a face I’d mistake for the porter,
it would only seem more natural for him
to unburden me of baggage
and walk with me to the door
asking after family,
how was my trip,
would I like a bite to eat.
If his appearance were as common
as dandelions in summer,
as unremarkable as clean linens hung
fluttering in the yard to dry,
he’d still be more than just like me,
with an understanding
that vivisects hearts
and love that knits them new again.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com