Apame

Apame

1 Esdras 4.29

 Apame, a playful concubine, consort of the king,

Caught the attention of Zerubbabel, a young man.

In contest for what’s strongest, he, her praises did sing.

Aligning her with truths presence did wisdom expand.

 

Darius, the king, found notes from three aspiring men.

Each stating what is strongest in all of creation.

One claimed wine, next the king, last truth and women.

Among these three, the king chose the third for oblation.

Claiming the reality of woman requires a powerful choice.

From their living presence comes the human race.

Yet over centuries patriarchy has stifled their voice.

We must acknowledge their importance or truth erase.

 

A delightful woman, Apame, conducted herself with humor.

She knew her part in the royal retinue; How to be true.

Taking cues from Spirit, she claimed her virtue apart from rumor.

Having the kings’ ear she could bring love, justice to all but a few.

Her father, Bartacus, had shown her loving care.

Brothers and a sister grew up ‘round an ample table.

A man of simple means, he would always truth dare.

Life, a gracious Creators’ gift asks of all what they are able.

 

 Young Apame knew of her position in the patriarchal world.

With courage she asserted her strength and might.

A most appealing banner of feminine power she unfurled.

Bringing the king a chance for truth unvarnished to sight.

 

Hail to thee, young women fair, bring your vision out.

Disdain the lessor view culture often asks you to take.

Your bodies, your minds, your grace-filled hearts don’t doubt.

Creator gifts you into life, bring us truth, don’t forsake.

 

Subversive texts, these, saved over eons for us to read.

Characters real, they remind of our places to accept.

No person must be overlooked, denied, in falseness bleed,

For Spirit will ever underline truth while power has slept.

 

The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.

5 March 2013

Bud To Blossom

 

 

Bud To Blossom

 

 Turning 21 brings many an opportunity for personal growth.

1966 ‘twas that year for me to claim my majority,

In ways personal, in ways public, included a marital oath.

Finishing my junior year at Pacific Lutheran University.

 

You see, there was this cute, brown-eyed nursing student

Whose plot to get my attention had succeeded at Christmas.

Spring 1967, sprung for us in ways stimulating, some prudent.

Her solid Swedish lineage a real benefit I would never dismiss.

 

She, an older junior, me a first-time senior, I’d do another,

In quiet conversation, to her my heart’s perception I revealed.

“You, my dear, are the one woman in my world, no fuss, no bother!”

“I’m honored indeed. We’ve some work to do that’s not congealed.”

 

Dating proceeded with its amazing rhythm, delightful curves.

Campus talk proclaimed loudly, “Their truly an item.”

Hands held, midnight air-kisses, many emotional dips, swerves,

Summer came without a flower, only a lovely bud on the stem.

 

Often, the pledge was made, “I’m ready. Will you be my wife?”

Brown eyes lowered, hands firmly held, “I can date but not yet.”

August arrived, Portland’s version of heat, humidity to cut with a knife.

We made countless trips from Hillsboro to Portland our love to vet.

 

Sitting in my stuffy car, at the end of another day of bliss,

“I’ve an old question that needs to have a final answer.”

I turned my Norwegian blues upon my fair, lovely Swedish miss.

“This time I must warn you, ‘twill be the last, don’t hesitate or demur.”

 

“Will you be my wife?” stated calmly, without rancor or pain.

Her face gazed with a glow that only love and respect could bring.

“I was hoping you’d ask me one more time, waiting makes me insane.”

The car suddenly changed its ambience, two hearts ready to sing.

 

The bud of romance came to full bloom that day.

My pastoral counsel to countless couples found its root.

Spirit will guide your relationship every step of the way.

Matrimony, the Ph.D. of intimacy, God’s love at its foot.

 

The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.

4 March 2013