C. Thomas Asplund

The Heart of My Father

Upon This Rock

We laughed in the temple 
            and found favor where 
the Lord lashed with lightening and laughed too 

                        when he saw the size of salvation.

A Comforter

Still you come to me in the night 
Walking with bare feet whispering 
And still you force me to come round corners that could wait,
To face a minor premise I am avoiding. 

Seasoning

That fine white burst of bush blossom 
Has come again. Blast 
ing through the winter crust 
And scattering the afterbirth of spring,