Poems:
Dead Leaves
Dead leaves gather by the old driveway
Brown, crippled, life sucking end of season
Changes that destroy the vibrant
In favor of the wasting away
Is there any making sense of the decaying
That weaves its way through life
Understanding is not the issue
Reality becomes a razor
Wounding the soul with
Filthy cuts, producing jagged edges
My head will fail
My heart will break
My mind assails me
But my soul will yet rise up
On winds of light and glory
Holy breezes
Will sweep away
Dead leaves gathered by the old doorway.
Fear Frozen
Pain so intense
it coats the air
with crystal fragments
of crushed metal--
frigid and unfeeling
Rolling in like unwelcome fog
density not stopping at my eyes;
driving deeper until my soul quakes in
terrified blindness
Fear overcomes the future
with an overwhelming, now
and obliterates the past
with icy insecurity
Tears wrack my face
contorting my eyes into
blood-red, streaming rivers
unable to understand
unable to control
unable...
so unable
I am weakness personified
and nakedness engulfs me
Ruff-edged and unrelenting the cutting opens
a one-way passage to revelation
revelation that melts the fear away
A very un-natural,
Super-natural touch
Not examined
Not understood
Received as a gift
delivered by the Spirit,
Warming my heart
and giving me courage
to chip the ice
and take
the next step...
ALONE -- Musings on Being
Sometimes alone-deeply alone...
When I'm tired of the army of critics
the blind guides leading sightless followers
When my rambling, careening analysis
is at least uninterrupted by the foolishness
of unaffected ghosts, who reside in faceless beings
When it's too painful to smile
and too much to ignore,
I have the melancholy of my private silence
Searing stabs of reality shatter
the glass of a tortured mind,
Cold shards of truth rip through frozen wastelands
Arid mindlessness becomes disgustingly intolerable
It's at these times that
the iciness of life is crystalline and clear,
Cold beyond measure
a soul chilling howl pierces my heart
And no one and nothing can touch me
I am alone-deeply alone
The essence of who I am
beyond the atom, in the groaning spirit
Stands on the brink
in self conscious agony
At other times love, or it's perception
has warmed and soothed this heartcry
But at these times it is a loveless, desperation
that knows it has no home
Because I am alone-deeply alone
Breath of Heaven
Breath of heaven surround my soul
I am weak; on the verge
The warm, life giving spirit is
In your mouth-speak to me
Revive me according to your loving kindness
Breath of heaven flow through me
I am weak; on the verge
Revive me according to your word
I am weak; on the verge
Revive me according to your ordinances…
I am weak and need your strength.
Sunday
Sunday, a day for healing
A day for peace
Yet the hurt of the world
Her brother has been wronged
Her friend has suffered tragedy
His medical report was not good
His depression has not left
But it's Sunday, blessed Sunday
The preacher tells the tale
The news is good
God is in the land
But it's Sunday and the pain
Has not departed
The hurt has not subsided
It's Sunday and all is not
Quiet in the land
All is not peaceful
Anguish takes no holiday
Yet it's Sunday
Holy Sunday
And the still small voice
From deep within
Whispers, "I know"
"I know"
and you will too.
Always, Eventually, Safe
Control is not mine
Assurance in the observed
Is a vapor
One thing I know
Choices belong to me
I am enslaved to them
Because they can not be avoided
And each one is tied
To the inevitability of consequence
I choose not to fight
For the illusion of freedom
Instead I cling to
The comfort of surrender
For the promise of God
Is not found in strength
It is whispered
To the weak and broken soul
I stand up
Rain beats my brow
Winds howls in my ears
Yet I'm aware of His presence
And so…
In faith, by grace I remain
Always, Eventually, Safe
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