Category Archives: Passion

Weight and Light

My lungs are too heavy to breathe, 
But I pull against the drag
Sucking in this sudden Spring
While winter is here
And winter is coming
I close my eyes
Inhaling the promise
The sun reminds me
Seasons change

I’m not strong enough
But is this beyond the One
Who framed seasons?
Let each breath be Yours
Pick me up, carry me through
So I may hold hands
And sing with these laden lungs
To You. 


She Groans

The virgin cried out
In tremors of foreign pains
Gripping her fullness
In throated, desperate strains
She proclaimed her hallelujah
Hunted, she harbored an eternal reign
Struggling through the gift
Bestowing the timeless name
On her wondrous little boy
In blood and water, it remains
Her agonizing cry of triumph.

Tomorrow’s journey
May lead Your humble maidens
Through unknown cries
Our names will fade and
Tears shed will evaporate
Rising to a heaven laden
But majesty shines in mangers
The grave itself gave in
After suffering reached full term
All these pangs, we trust You’ve laid them
In Your eternal treasury

As our hallelujahs.


Turning Points

Dear God,

I’ve carried the lies I was given
As far as I was able-
Desperate for them to be true
Building layers into the fable
That never fit the behaviors.

They never loved me,
And how embarrassingly I’ve flailed
Trying to earn it, or make-believe,
Perpetually aching over the ways I failed
To be enduring and endurable.

I’m ready now to set it all down
To accept the truth, to confess
I was always the one clinging,
Cleaning up the mess
Bridging the gap. 

I wanted to believe empty words
Let everything be layered in complications
So I could imbue love
Through my many translations,
Beyond the evidence

But it’s always been simple
I wasn’t loved, wasn’t cared for-
Used, abused, neglected
I can’t sift through the ashes anymore
For what was never there.

All these years building,
But nothing stands
The relationships I craved
Held for ransom demands
I must no longer pay.

And in the flood that follows
The breaking dam,
I’m lost in the worst riptide
Questioning who I am
And what I’ve believed.

Come find me.
Don’t leave me out here
To drowned in the grief,
In the unmet hope and deepest fear
Of the unloved little child.

Who are You?
What am I?
Mute, empty, but if You cared,
If that wasn’t my own lie,

Come find me.


Objective Truth

May God be true
And every man a liar.
We see in part and move,
But His way is higher.

We cling to the selfmade sin
Skewing our ability to see;
Let The Sinless One
Ever blessed be.

If I never carry another flag,
If I never speak another word,
If I’m thrown on the refuse
With the proud and absurd

If I die a thousand silent deaths
And pass from the realm of men
Into eternal punishment,
It fits the perpetual sin

Stained by the grief of the repetition,
The dysfunction, the mangled twists-
My failure to achieve the standard
Cannot negate He exists.

I wash my hands as Pilate.
I withdraw into my pains
While outside this faithless space
The King Eternal reigns.


Whispers

They whispered to me
As a child in dreams
Or over simplistic meals
They repeated in screams
The things I cannot unlearn

And it burned my ears
What I learned by rote
I don’t scream. I don’t sing,
But I learned every note:
All things are being shattered

At once or in slow-motion
It’s hard to build on bits of glass
To look at the things you can’t take back
And build anyway- it’s crass
But I tried.

I haven’t cried in years
Because grief gives way
To acceptance, I guess
What is left to say?
To unbreak a broken thing
Takes more than an ability

To cry, or scream, or sing.


Hiding Plain

Shh…

It isn’t safe to talk here
The walls have ears
But not a heart
They’ll hear you and turn
And tear you apart

Shh…

Put them in vases
Hide their faces
Underneath and in between
Dress them in layers
Safest yet is still unseen.

Shh…

The constant dripping shocks
A solid system, eroding rock
In volatile, violent increments
Of dull constancy
Surgery under fluid instruments

Shh…

Rearrange my little stones
Until the rain finds me alone
Carrying me downstream
With mad intentions
I do not flinch. I cannot scream.

Shh…

Lullabies echo from the belly of the beast,
It beckons the cradle come to the feast
I have stared it down before
Hallways like extended arms
Fingers flexing like flapping doors

Shh…

Who will pay the man what’s due?
Who can afford the bills accrued
Under all the stories told
Under these riddles hiding
In corners dark and cold

And seething

Shh…
They’ll hear you.


Bloody Pilgrim

The Pilgrims ate the natives
They invited in to feast
In snarling chomp and salivation
After they eat
They refuse to clean up the mess.

There is no protection
No way this side of the bar
To keep the Pilgrims starved
Or the sharpened teeth held far
From the little ones they carve.

How uncaring blinded eyes can be,
And ears that cannot hear,
Napkins to protect their visage
As they chew through salted tears
And swallow down the least of these.


No Shadow of Turning

Morning wakes
From before it sleeps
Perfect Power, Love, and Purity
Hovers over shapeless deeps
With a glistening dream,
A secret to keep,

In His eternality, it is complete
Before it begins.

Morning wakes
Man stretches into the ultimate gift:
His Maker’s image
He hurtles toward the rift
Of rebellion and graffiti
And The Maker sifts

Through the timeline complete
To scour away the sins.

Morning wakes
Unspeakable Light coos
In baby gurgles and gasps
Perfect Power pursues
In powerless flesh
Those who choose

To leave their altars incomplete
Laying themselves before Him.

Morning wakes
From the garden kneeling tender
In blood-soaked perspiration
To the host of jagged timber
Cutting into the fabric of time
All creation to ever remember

The sacrifice required is completed
Restoring the intent of the beginning.

Morning wakes
As a baby grown ascends
Above death, above what remains,
He prepares for our end
Sharing His Dear Spirit
Who teaches us to mend

Until the hour is complete
And we again dwell with Him.

Morning wakes,
Every breath pulls us nearer
To the Hovering God
Whose plans were dearer
Than our sabotages
And I can hear Him

Whose song in the shapeless night
Echoes through every waking morning.


Joy Replete

I love to live where it snows.

Where I tuck my cold toes
Against my husband’s warm legs

And we can stay in bed
Watching the snow, in wispy flurries,

Bury all our reasons to hurry
In graceful drifts and banks of white

Sleeping soundly through the night,
At first light baking bread, scrambling eggs,

Brewing coffee hot and stout, laced with nutmeg,
While some pork crackles in the cast iron pans

Calling forth my offspring better than I can
In peals of giggles and visions of wintry delights

My husband and I drink up the sights
Black coffee kisses by the kitchen stove

He is the fullness of man: an endless trove
Of potent strength and character- his able hands

Built the space wherein I stand
Safe, cherished, with ample provisions:

His life is a million noble decisions
For which I lay a million kisses on his beard

I love living here
In a space none has torn asunder

Where the work itself becomes the wonder.


Of a Monday

Fast, another day breaks new
More tasks await than I can do
Thus I engage, in the historical sense,
Searching for the significance,
Sifting the vital from the inconsequential
Assigning value to inherent potential
By the framework of my worldview

As every human is prompt to do.