In my broken sin
I try to look up and sing,
To comprehend
The incomprehensible thing:

The Savior’s love for me.

Don’t let me end here: a tragedy.
Don’t let those who crushed me
Delight in their victory
Of vindicated mockery.

You are my everything

And my only.

Thank You

For the wind,
For the warm sun on my skin
For dandelions and wild violets
Lightning bugs at twilight
And the water’s flow
Birds singing every song they know
Even though it won’t make ’em a nickel
Thank You for babies to tickle
And the laughter of white-haired men
Reminding me that even when
The whole world gets old
Joy can still be bold.
Thank you that the earth spins,
And someday, somehow,

I’ll see the other side again.

I know what I should do
One foot in front of another
Firm in my stance
Laying down my life for the other
Like a cheerful giver:
All these things I know,
But I live under the cloud
That follows me as I go;

I miss warmth and blue skies.

“It comes in waves, ” she warned.
I already knew how it moves
Like ocean breakers, or tolling bells,
The silence in between which soothes
Vanquished in the next crest and peal
My heart echoes like a conch shell
Held in secret to a curious ear
But I don’t want to show and tell

I just want to sit undisturbed in the sand
And feel the only warmth of earth on my skin.

When war breaks forth unwary,
Under wail and armor-weighted,
Burdensome, but necessary
Before the horrors perpetuated
Bloody ideals in high-array stood
Man in fist against fellow man,
Evil vandalizing the good,
Sometimes by your own hand
The initial draw of blood
Rends your cells in twain
Knees and vomit in the mud
Necessary, but never again!
Yet the next day passes as the day before
Inches won by lifetimes
You make a home within the gore,
Within the necessity of your crimes,
Waiting for the relief so deeply craved
Brought by precious and costly Peace
Whose heraldry dissolves all depraved
And allows for violence to cease.

In hope, through advancing stages,
Lady Peace keeps soldiers warm,
But the longer the fighting rages
How abstract becomes her form!
When the fighting continues through
Blazing suns and shifting stars
Til it’s no longer the thing you chose to do,
But has become the thing you are,
Your gaze narrows earthward
At the casualties that fall;
In your gut, you know you’ll never trust her,
Nay, nor recognize her at all!

Have I craved
Corporeal solutions
To spiritual problems?
Divine diminutions
For temporal relief?
May it not be so.
Lead me on the path
Where I should go.

By Your hand and staff
I will follow.

All other ground
Slips away in the tide,
But You remain,
In You I hide,
While the sun
Warms my skin
Because You rise to save
You defend me again
When every breath
Conspired to destroy
You smuggled me to freedom
Resuscitating joy,
And I trust You.
I believe Your promises are true.
Whatever tomorrow brings,
I belong to You.

Between us, for You,
I reserved the space here.
So let me say it true
Since, of late, I’ve been unclear:
You are supremely just,
And You have done no wrong.
My heart still trusts.
Reward and recompense still belong
To Your designations.
You alone know to guide
The happenstance of Your creations;
No one else is fit to decide
By blind eyes and deaf ears
When You alone can see,
And pour grace upon grace, year after year,
For generations, through all human history,

And though You slay me,
Yet will I trust You still,
Because even in Your fury
Your love girds Your will

Patiently, wisely, graciously;
And You are not against me.

The family tree
That grows no good
In an enchanted forest,
A haunted wood,
Every branch sits
Stark and fallow
Stretching out
Hungry as gallows
Crooked finger-twigs
Like razor-features
Scratching to devour
The gentle creatures

Who wander too close.

I live here now
At ground zero,
In the hollowed how,
The earthen barrow
I once called home.

A life seemingly certain
Toppled by trouble
I hang tattered curtains
Inside the rubble
Unsure where the windows were.

And every cloth
Is a funeral shroud
Even the moths
Are too proud
To feast at the sepulcher.

Before the shell landed,
I sang to You
Now grief, heavy-handed,
Leaves me mute.
Sing over me again.

By my reflection
All is consumed.
Help me see Your resurrection
From inside the tomb

Build me again.

Unless the Lord builds the house,
those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord watches over the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.

Psalm 127:1