viewingcamelot

As I drifted into the haze
Of subconscious reality
Tucked quietly
Into the passenger seat
An ambiguous dread
Touched my gut, unsettled my head
Some impression unsaid
Of waking up with the dead.

But through static, I could hear
The car radio suddenly come in clear
With a forgotten balm for a familiar fear
From a movie, it said,
Hey, Kid!
You’re gonna live!

And when this is over,
We are going to celebrate.

I am safe.
My God is great,

And He is doing something.

“Hey, kid. Kid, listen to me. You’re going to live. You got it? You are going to survive. And when you get out of here, we’re gonna celebrate.”
Jack Buck – Soul on Fire

Museums fallen into disuse
Become mausoleums
Webbed and faded, shadow-tossed,
Abandoned catacombs
The dry and dusty bones
Of lives lost
Down the open throat of time.

Thank You
Because Your gifts are free.
They’re about Your generosity;
They aren’t wages to me

The wage I earned was death,
But I believe
You drank that cup
So I can leave

The grave behind

Lift me

From the grave below,
To Your grace above.
Show me how to live
In that kind of love.

These days grow dimmer.
My hope slips into ether,
But by Your grace
I am still a believer;

I believe You
And Your promises.

Don’t let me fail.
Don’t let me fall
Under the wheels of evil;

Don’t let me be lost.

I don’t allow myself to be loved.
That’s on me.

I must have known,
All these years I’ve been through
What is love and what is hate;
The difference between the two.
I accepted the nicest, most civil
Hatred I could find
Because real love is too risky.
Maybe I wasn’t blind.
I could feel the animosity.
I just believed in the Close Enough.
I believed I was impossible
To truly love.

But everyone will hurt you
Eventually.
What is love, what can it be,
Beyond a refusal to leave?

And sometimes
You have to leave anyway,
And some people
Choose to stay

To feed off your pain.
That’s not love.

Born in captivity, or
A self-gilded cage?
What exactly is love anyway?

This was the place
Where the days all weighed
More than a day
And the hours bloomed
Like roses and thunder
The world was an orchard
No one had plundered
And the juice from the picking
Dripped down on our chins.

I come to these ruins now and again
Because when it’s silent and still
I hear us through time, Merry,
Working out our will and good pleasure.

There was no way to save the day,
To save those days, in the moment,
And no way now to measure
How profound the bloom and peal.

What is worth most?
The first rose to open,
Or the final blossom?

(Written outside the door.)

Thank you

For the best of times
The worst of them
For remembering
Who I might have been
If it hadn’t all been wasted.

I keep giving up in waves.
I’ve been fighting the quit,
But the reality of my stillbirth
And my culpability in it,
Is branded Lost Cause.

It’s humiliating to be exposed
On video tape
For all you have hated to be,
All you tried to escape
But could never defeat.

I don’t know why
It had to be a public spectacle
Why You told me time and again
Run back to the table
Under the nose of judgement

But I don’t care; just hold me.
I feel like there is no such action
As betrayal, because it requires trust
The way will always be grasping factions
And dangerous liaisons.

The dream of love is over,
Love of any kind,
But I know it’s Who You are-
I’ve been born blind.
I am incapable of love

For a million reasons
Only You can overcome.

I want to run,
But that’s just geography.

Through my years
I have sustained
Many acts of violence
The intense strain
By taking a knee
Absorbing the pain
Standing, taking step by step,
Until momentum changed
Memory and ache.

But this won’t stop hurting.
My children feel the weight
I watch them move differently
Unaware they now compensate
For the thing that changed all things.
The grief infiltrates
And I can’t mend what’s torn
I can’t take
Many more of these days

And nothing can make it better
If You don’t redeem it.

Shadows and Echoes.
People come and go.
Some see me; no one knows
I am my own ghost.

I wait for the kaleidoscope to spin
Pulling me from the place I’m in
Into the chaotic twirl of change again
But who I am already descends

Laid to rest in the most foreign land
My bones interred bear the brand
Will that mark, by some mysterious hand,
Tie me ever to this place I planned,

But could never understand?

I don’t want to leave;
I don’t want to stay.
I want to stop haunting,
To dissolve away

By some gentle breeze,
Into nothing.
Instead

I scream with coyotes
Barefoot I run with them.
I howl like the wind.
My soul is tethered;
I fear I’ll be trapped here when
The kaleidoscope spins

Roaming and wailing with no end.

I’m so grateful
For the incremental victories
That are concrete reminders
That You are with me,
But on the equal and opposite
Of each success
I stare into the void
Of grief and emptiness.

I’m done with calculations,
And I’m not blaming my husband again.
He gets life done
When I am crippled by my sin.
I can’t see a resolution
That doesn’t end in perpetual grief.
I can’t see a higher outcome
Than temporary relief.

Be the God of my wilderness.
Find a vantage point.