Rhododendron Prophets


I listen with my eyes as

rhododendron prophets sing glad

fuchsia songs of summer days;

call me to prepare the way, to

level mounds of wintry gloom,

raise up dark valleys of my nights;

bask once again in life reborn beneath the

fingered rays of nearer sun, brushing

hope across my skin, burning faith into my

bones—for every now, for all that is to be

beyond the short-lived radiance of these blooms so

raucous in their joy.


Their life so short, but still they blaze and sing the

bliss of what’s to come; each rhodo-globe a cluster,

chorus bright of tiny flames of Pentecostal fire,

dreaming dreams and visioning renewal of the

earth, of me, of every creature, wave, and cloud;

vivid tongues that join as one to paint the world with

ecstasy that takes my breath away.


written in gratitude for Pastor John Havrilla

who has so colorfully sung to us of God’s love and renewal

on the occasion of his retirement


5 thoughts on “Rhododendron Prophets

  1. Love this, esp. Since I know a little about the man you are honoring. You have made the arduous journey from telling to showing. Bj

  2. I especially like the unison voice of all the little Pentecostal rhododendron tongues. Much to learn from their “manner” of prophecy as well as from the prophecy itself! No prima donnas–all singing together!

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