Monday, September 14, 2009

Still Waters

Painting courtesy of Irene Pruitt, © 2009

Still Waters
Ezekiel 47:1-12, Revelation 22:1-5
(Revelation Chapters 21 and 22)

I’m breathing . . . living . . . drowning
The Flood swept me
from under the sanctuary door
and out by the shade of the life tree
leaves of healing shimmered
and reflected beside me
death was lifted
the curse receded
the place of God was by this sea
the face of God; in front of me
where I drifted; as He carried me

we live where the river flows
taken where life goes
out by the tree lined crystal sea
God has made everything new
He leads us beside still waters
He bids us come and dive
to drown in His waters
where we are truly alive
the river so powerful it sweeps us away
out into eternity
to the dawn of the new day

© 2009, Robbie Pruitt

“Thank you Tom Craig!”

Thursday, May 7, 2009


To sink in to the ground, to dissolve, decompose
petroleum forever for the future to hold
no you can’t kill my now; cuz I’m wrapped in the soil
I don’t need my bones for support anymore

if I knew how it ends, I’d be invincible
I’d avoid every plague and disease you control
step away from the toxins that I’ve come to love
and though I’d be alone I’d be invincible

Till our cities will sparkle with the white bones of Doves
and the oceans are full of our green glowing love
till the valves in my heart slam shut and grow cold
I’ll keep telling myself that I’m invincible

when I was but bones laying in the valley bare
You breathed for me when you saw me there
Bleached white and gleaming; I signaled needing
A place of life where this death is receding

can I live?
I wonder and doubt
death valley; bones among bones
I’m withered without
a city or a home
a place where I am known

Till our cities will sparkle with the white bones of Doves
and the oceans are full of your green growing Love
till the valves in my heart slam shut and grow cold
I’ll keep telling myself that I’m invincible

Receiving flesh upon flesh
My new heart pumps and races
as skin covers, blood rushes, and sinew chases
and up my spine Life sends shivers
as Your Breath, Your Spirit, delivers

This is the place we dreamed of,
longed for,
and desired to roam
Your Love covers,
and I’m clothed for Home

The city will sparkle with the white bones of Dove
and the oceans are full of your green growing Love
the valves in my heart fling open, receive
I’ll never grow old; I’ll never grieve
resting myself in the Truth that is told; I’m invincible

I know how it ends, I’m invincible
I know my every plague and disease, and I’m out of control
stepped away from the toxins, came to know Love
no longer alone; I’m invincible

© 2009, Ryan Ellis and Robbie Pruitt

Thank you Ezekiel and Ryan!

For a Bible Study with this poem by Rev. AJ Ochart, click here.

Ezekiel 37:1-14: Breath of Life

“God grabbed me. God’s Spirit took me up and set me down in the middle of an open plain strewn with bones. He led me around and among them—a lot of bones! There were bones all over the plain—dry bones, bleached by the sun.

He said to me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

I said, “Master God, only you know that.”

He said to me, “Prophesy over these bones: ‘Dry bones, listen to the Message of God!’ ”

God, the Master, told the dry bones, “Watch this: I’m bringing the breath of life to you and you’ll come to life. I’ll attach sinews to you, put meat on your bones, cover you with skin, and breathe life into you. You’ll come alive and you’ll realize that I am God!”

I prophesied just as I’d been commanded. As I prophesied, there was a sound and, oh, rustling! The bones moved and came together, bone to bone. I kept watching. Sinews formed, then muscles on the bones, then skin stretched over them. But they had no breath in them.

He said to me, “Prophesy to the breath. Prophesy, son of man. Tell the breath, ‘God, the Master, says, Come from the four winds. Come, breath. Breathe on these slain bodies. Breathe life!’ ”

So I prophesied, just as he commanded me. The breath entered them and they came alive! They stood up on their feet, a huge army.

Then God said to me, “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. Listen to what they’re saying: ‘Our bones are dried up, our hope is gone, there’s nothing left of us.’

“Therefore, prophesy. Tell them, ‘God, the Master, says: I’ll dig up your graves and bring you out alive—O my people! Then I’ll take you straight to the land of Israel. When I dig up graves and bring you out as my people, you’ll realize that I am God. I’ll breathe my life into you and you’ll live. Then I’ll lead you straight back to your land and you’ll realize that I am God. I’ve said it and I’ll do it. God’s Decree.’ ”


Ellis, Ryan. Untitled song lyrics (invincible?), 2009

Ochart, Rev. AJ Associate Pastor of Youth and Family Ministries
Trinity Presbyterian Church, Travelers Rest, SC, Bible Study on Ezekiel. 2009

Peterson, Eugene H.: The Message : The Bible in Contemporary Language. Colorado Springs, Colo. : NavPress, 2002, S. Eze 37:1-14

DAD655,, 2009, 2009, 2009

Thursday, April 16, 2009

State Street Poets and Painters

Photo by unknown artist

State Street Poets and Painters

the poets
and painters
on State Street
sit at the sidewalk tables,
drinking coffee,
smoking cloves,
and marching to their own beat.
“Being an artist in this town
is like being a deep sea diver in Nevada,”
said the man with the painted waterproof pants.
“I’m a traveling man; I’m a traveling man . . .”
said the suit wearing poet with the hat
the feather wore thin,
as if it agreed with that.
the painter’s and the poet’s leather skin
spoke of time, age, resolve, and wear
as if the sun beat down on them
time and time again,
as they sat right there.
free refills that keep them coming
and make them stay
day after day, after day.
the river as their view
all is the same for them
as they sit there, but you.
the painter wearing his art
and the poet reciting his verse
the audience looking on,
or not looking at all
as they rehearse.
people chart their own course,
so take heed . . .
even Nevada has Lake Mead

© 2009, Robbie Pruitt

Photo by unknown artist

Sometimes you just have to write down the poetry as it unfolds in front of you.

This was the case on my last visit to Columbia South Carolina.

A tradition on all our visits “back home” is to frequent a little café in West Columbia called Café Strudel, On this particular visit there were some artists hanging outside by the street and talking. What transpired was the poem that you just read. As I heard this particular quote about “being an artist in this town,” and the “deep sea diving in Nevada,” I immediately thought about a trip I took several years ago to the Hoover Dam in Nevada. On this trip I got to witness the massiveness of Lake Mead. It struck me that one could, indeed, deep sea dive in Lake Mead. It also became evident that you can do art wherever you want, because there is more than one way of getting it done, no matter your circumstances, or geographical location.

So the poets recite, and create, their verse and the painters wear their work on their clothes, and they dive into their art, even on a street corner in West Columbia South Carolina.


Tuesday, March 31, 2009

The Old Dominican

Dominican Man and Daughter, Photo © 2003, by Robbie Pruitt

The Old Dominican
(Romans 8:1-30)

“I have to work hard. Words will not put food on my table.”
– Dominican Man

we are poor,
but rich
men of God
men of character
men of simplicity,
living a straightforward life
men of good humor and joy
men with a strong sense of family
men of sensibility
men with hospitality
men strong
like rich black coffee

© 2003, Robbie Pruitt

Men Strong Like Rich Black Coffee

Romans 8:15-17

“This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?” God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us—an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through the hard times with him, then we’re certainly going to go through the good times with him!”

I was on a mission trip to the Dominican Republic in January 2003. This was a trip that forever changed my thinking and outlook on life and the world.

My dad was never around when I was growing up because my parents were divorced. I was never lacking a meal or a material need or want however, because my mom lavished us with everything imaginable and worked hard and gave us everything that a typical youth in North America could ever need, want, or dream of, but she could not give me a sense of manhood. That was my dad’s job. My grandfather filled in pretty well, but deep down, I know that this was not the same. Something was always missing.

In the Dominican Republic we were hiking from the village of Boma where we were staying and were crossing a river to visit a family who lived in a small shanty with a dirt floor. As we crossed, an old Dominican man and his son were crossing the river on an old mangy horse to go to work together in a field somewhere. Our guide asked the man, in Spanish, if he was “working hard today.” He replied, as I found out later when I asked, “I have to work hard. Words will not put food on my table.”

These Dominican men had nothing; rather, nothing as we might interpret having something. I had belongings of more value in my backpack, which my mom had given me for Christmas, than these simple people had with their entire net worth, as it pertains to money. At my core, I knew that these men were richer than I would ever be. These men had a sense of family, they had hospitality, and they had a connection with their surroundings and with the rhythms of life. When you would visit these families it was customary for them to serve rich black coffee with sugar and spend time with them under a shade tree talking and laughing. They understood that people mattered and actions counted. Hospitality and relationships and good hard work were customary. These men were there for their family, and when the “going got tough,” the bond between them got tighter. These men knew what it meant to live richly and I knew that I could learn a lot from them about what it means to be a man.

Desiring to be conformed into the Father's image,



Peterson, Eugene H.: The Message : The Bible in Contemporary Language. Colorado Springs, Colo. : NavPress, 2002, S. Ro 8:15-17

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Words Like Feathers

"Falling Feather," Photo courtesy of Kelly, © 2009
Thank you Kelly!

Words Like Feathers
(Matthew 12:33-37)

some men’s words
are like feathers
they drift weightless
down upon you
brush them off
and they drift
to the ground
and they blow away
some men are like feathers

© 2009, Robbie Pruitt

Matthew 12:34b

“For out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks.”

The Holy Bible : New International Version. electronic ed. Grand Rapids : Zondervan, 1996, c1984, S. Mt 12:34

Monday, March 9, 2009

Mary Martha

"Christ in the House of Mary and Martha," Photo by Jan Vermeer, 1981.

Mary Martha
(Luke 10:38-42)

sitting at your feet
working at your service
listening, waiting, wanting
working, buzzing, worrying, wanting
loving, dining, caring, living
living, caring, dining, loving
serving . . . alone
working, striving, earning
loosing you in serving you
distractions . . . help me!
rest will bless me
worried. . . troubled
one thing needed
Mary conceded
Martha, concur
in my heart God, you stir
the good and chosen part
may I not depart
Mary resting
Martha’s missed blessing
lonely, waiting
sitting, facing
my heart racing
waking . . . resting

© 2009, Robbie Pruitt

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Giants in Blue

Giants in Blue, Photo © 2009, By Robbie Pruitt

Giants in Blue
(Judges 9:7-15)

strong and tall
stands of stalks
moon hanging in blue
above you
black stalks stand tall
like giants standing
in front of you
color contrasts
trees and moon in view
nighttime approaching
giants standing in blue

© 2009, Robbie Pruitt

Isaiah 55:12-13

“So you’ll go out in joy,
you’ll be led into a whole and complete life.
The mountains and hills will lead the parade,
bursting with song.
All the trees of the forest will join the procession,
exuberant with applause.
No more thistles, but giant sequoias,
no more thornbushes, but stately pines—
Monuments to me, to God,
living and lasting evidence of God.”

Peterson, Eugene H.: The Message : The Bible in Contemporary Language. Colorado Springs, Colo. : NavPress, 2002, S. Is 55:12-13

Tuesday, February 24, 2009


Shalom River, photo © 2009, Robbie Pruitt

(Isaiah 32:15-20)

wait for peaceful rivers
to flow down over you
and the wild and the desert places
they shall yield life abundant
abundance, water, and fruit
for your contentment
it will be right because you will be right
the water washes you accordingly
declaration of quiet calmness
tranquility in your habitation
strife vanished from your nation
a place to lay your head in quiet rest
if the leaves be beaten from the trees and the city lay bare
you will find Him there
if only in the wind that brought destruction air
we will lay beside the river side
listening to freedom pass by
a rush over us
as the lapping, gushing, swirling river tide

© 2009, Robbie Pruitt

Isaiah 32:15-20
(New International Version)

“Till the Spirit is poured upon us from on high, and the desert becomes a fertile field, and the fertile field seems like a forest. Justice will dwell in the desert and righteousness live in the fertile field. The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever. My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest. Though hail flattens the forest and the city is leveled completely, how blessed you will be, sowing your seed by every stream, and letting your cattle and donkeys range free.”

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

More Than a Glimpse

"I See You Looking at Me Moon,"
drawing © 2002, by Irene Pruitt

More Than a Glimpse
(Revelation 21:22-25)

the sun sets like fire
behind the mountain ridge
rays of sunlight
shine through the clouds
from heaven to earth
like a bridge

the ocean’s expanse
so vast and rich
the earth’s harmony
like a trance

the moon hangs
in the backdrop of the sky
our souls are at rest
we know why

your beauty envelops
and consumes
through and through
this is more
than just
a glimpse of you

© Robbie Pruitt

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Passing On

Painting © 2005, By Irene Pruitt

Passing On
(Romans 5:12-21)

“I think that I see the plan of God working here.”
said the old man, with a joyous outlook on this future grief.

We were never meant to float about life
in this endless turmoil and strife.

These bodies are not made for eternity.
There is life beyond this world
that our eyes cannot see.

This sickness and pain consumes our existence.

Until death makes us part this fruitless plain.
We simply have to die we cannot remain.
Eternity starts now and begins again in another domain.

Death is the great exit from this life to the next.

No one has died and lived to tell the tale,
except for the one beneath the veil.

We know not what awaits us at the end of our stride.
Yet we say with simplicity,
“If I do not see you again in this world. . .
I will see you on the other side.”

The old man continued:

“I think that I see the plan of God working here.”

“I think I see why it is we must pass on.”

© Robbie Pruitt

For Whom Does The Bell Toll?

"Olympia Mill Bell Tower Bell," Photo © 2009, By Robbie Pruitt

For Whom Does The Bell Toll?
(1 Corinthians 13:1)

The bell in the bell tower is engraved, “Trust in God.”
It rings every hour on the hour
And no one hears what it says.

It’s a lonely echoing ring
From a solemn bell.
A cold and metal thing.

“Trust in God! Trust in God! Trust in God!”
It resounds
In every ringing sound.

At every hour on the hour
The bell cries
From the bell tower.

But no one hears its ringing sound
For there isn’t a single ear to be found.

The pendulum comes to its resting place.
The bell sleeps
Only to be awakened by the clock's chase.

“The chiming of the hour is at my hands!” the clock yells.
“It’s time to sound your message!” says the time machine.

“Trust in God! Trust in God! Trust in God!” the bell cries.
But for one more time, one extra chime
Because the clock says so.

So he gives it the extra try, “Trust in God!”
But no one hears its message,
Only the lonely messenger,
And his lonely echoing ring.

And as the pendulum swings back slowly to its resting place
The bell ponders . . .
“I am just a cold metal thing with a fancy sounding ring,
A loud and flashy chime.”

“I’m just a lonely bell, in a lonely bell tower,
programmed for the same job at the same time,
every hour on the hour.”

So alone he sings to himself to pass the time
“Trust in God! Trust in God! Trust in God!”
“For there has to be more to my life than this to pass the time.”

“For whom does the bell toll?”

© Robbie Pruitt

"Olympia Mill Bell Tower Bell 2," Photo © 2009, By Robbie Pruitt

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal."

The New King James Version. Nashville : Thomas Nelson, 1982, S. 1 Co 13:1

John Donne
Meditation 17
Devotions upon Emergent Occasions

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee..."