The Cone of Death


I do not like the cone of death,
Or the grim lines easily placed,
By men and women of lovely face,
I do not like the cone of death,
And will evacuate,
Finding a way,
To drag my dying weight,
Before the winds,
Begin to blow or ever abate,
No cosmological dictate,
Some weatherman’s whim,
An evil crimson sprawl,
This deathly pseudonym,
Rings, Howls, and Calls,
Like a phantom limb,
I do not like the cone of death,
This is my hurricane hymn.

–Richard Bryant

Dusk-Richard’s Breviary


Gracious God,
I sit and wait,
As darkness prepares to descend,
Your light is greater than the approaching night.
May we not forget,
As we go forward toward the shadows,
We do not travel alone,
Should we walk, shuffle, or merely crawl;
We go with you.
You await our arrival with sustenance and warmth.
Remove from us now:
The fear,
The spectacle,
And barriers of today.
May the shimmering rays of dusk,
Settle our souls and prepare our hearts for night.
Thank you.


–Richard Bryant

Might That I


Might that I,
Sometime between,
The fading night,
And twilight’s shattered seams,
Seek a moment,
To say,
If I may,
These words;
Be they kind enough,
A worthy suffice,
One scattered few,
Indelicately placed,
Around the air,
Above the windows,
Beneath the pews,
Where they hover,
Round Holy spots,
A place to be,
Heard in silence,
By You and we,
I think I will.
Find a way,
To cobble a phrase,
And try to pray.

–Richard Bryant

I Need To Be Found (Luke 15:1-10)


Gracious God,
We do not know we are lost.
Nor are we aware of a need to be found.
Our existence,
Defined by our soul’s incapacity to see,
Being marked only by our presence.
This cannot last.
I cannot remain unfound as
One wandering among nothing.
Yet, I am,
Lost and do not know.
A self-misplaced,
Joy ripped from Grace,
Waiting to be found,
Reunited with the forgotten,
By someone who cares enough,
To look.

–Richard Bryant

To Connect the Disordered (A Prayer)


Gracious God,
Restore my soul aright, but not at ease.
May I be comforted and called,
to serve, wait, and simply be.
With your people,
In this place,
A kingdom now,
Which readily awaits,
With overwhelming needs,
May we reset the fractures,
Bring healing to the wounded,
Connect the disordered,
Listen to one another’s pain,
As we keep your love,


–Richard Bryant